The Harry Potter Omake Files: Innortal Style
by Innortal
Summary: Hogwarts, welcome to the Time Loops.
1. Magical Marriage Mayhem

**Magical Marriage Mayhem**

Disclaimer: I don't own this series or any other series. I am just floating an idea. I am making no money, nor plan to, off this venture. If you think of suing me over this, then grow up.

I would like to first personally thank all of those reviewing my stories. I enjoy reading your comments, and try to correct the grammatical errors I miss with my final read-through as well as my spell checkers. The suggestions you all make will help make this story better for everyone to enjoy, as well as allow my to fix some plot holes I may unintentionally leave. If you find any, let me know, and I will correct them and repost the chapters.

Please feel free to review, and make comments. If you find a spelling or wordage mistake, feel free to let me know. Thank you.

* * *

Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, the fourth contestant in the Tri-Wizard Tournament, the Universe's Bitch, sat in Dumbledore's office. Why was he there? He had no clue, since once again, people just dragged him somewhere, and once again assumed that someone else would explain things.

He was getting a little tired of that. Would it really have been so hard for people to explain why he was being dragged somewhere while they were doing the dragging? Maybe explain the fuming attitudes?

But no, people couldn't be bothered to do a simple courtesy like that. Maybe it was some stupid rule only in the magical world. Given what he had seen so far, they weren't exactly a group filled with common sense. How was it they could track him if he used a spell, but if some Dork Lard or his followers used a spell, it was see no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil?

Idiots...

At least they could have given him time to dry off first. He was cold, wet, hungry, had the bad and foul taste of gillyweed in his mouth, and a bubbly eight-year-old French girl sitting next time him, holding his arm, and smiling.

For a brief moment, he wondered if this was like whatever set Voldermonty off.

The head of Beauxbatons; Olympe Maxime, was having a yelling match with the school champion, Fleur Delacour. Dumbledore was sitting in his chair, snacking on something undoubtedly lemony—Harry wondered if it was an addiction—Gabrielle continued to hold his arm, Severus Snape continued to sneer at him, Minerva McGonagall tried to calm herself down, Moody just snorted on occasion and took a sip from his flask, and the paintings just either pretended to sleep or watched with interest.

And once again, not one single ... er ... person here would tell him what the hell was going on. He was half tempted just to leave, maybe track down a house elf and see if he could get him some food. Hell, he'd put up with Moaning Myrtle's peeping for a hot bath in the Prefect's Bathroom.

Maybe he should try and catch a nap. It looked like they'd be busy yelling for a while.

Deciding that he was too hungry, too cold, and once again too lacking in information because those who had it felt some undeniable need to keep such things from him, Harry decided to try and excuse himself kindly.

"EITHER TELL ME WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON, OR I'M GOING TO LEAVE!"

Then again, he was too hungry, too cold, and once again lacking in information to really give a damn about common courtesy at this point.

"Quiet, Potter," growled Snape.

Harry snorted. "Leave it is then."

"Sit down!" yelled Snape.

"Now Severus, I'm sure Harry is a little confused at the moment. If we all—Harry, please sit down," said Dumbledore, seeing the boy ready to exit the office, silvery-blond girl still attached to his arm.

"Does this mean I am going to finally figure out why I'm here?" he asked. "Cause if not, I got a date with a warm bath and a hot meal."

"Yes, I do believe it is time you learned what has apparently occurred," admitted Dumbledore.

Harry just stood at the door. "Well?"

"Please have a seat, Harry."

"Professor Dumbledore, with all due respect; get on with it," growled Harry. "I really am not in the mood for these delays."

"You were told to sit, boy," growled Snape.

Before Harry could respond to the attitude of the Potions teacher with a question about what sort of material the pole up his ass was made from, his little tagalong leapt at the man, transforming from a small maiden to a Bird Bitch from Hell, complete with razor-sharp beak, talons, warped wings, and balls of fire in her hands.

To be honest, he sort of hoped she did set Snape on fire; he was really cold.

"GET HER OFF!" yelled Snape, as he tried to fend the BBH off.

"Gabrielle!" yelled Fleur. "Stop this at once!"

Gabrielle, the youngest Delacour sister, stopped trying to see what Snape looked like on the inside, settled for kicking him in the shin, and walking back to Harry, transforming from the BBH back to the innocent maiden in the steps between.

Harry blinked as he looked at the formerly innocent girl, now spitting out a bit of robe she had ripped off Snape, as she grabbed his arm once more. For some odd reason, he didn't find what had just occurred odd or off in any way. He wondered if that was because he was tired and hungry, or because he had become jaded.

Still funny though to see Snape unable to fend off an eight-year-old. He'd have to remember to get Gabrielle a gift.

Olympe sighed. "Mr. Potter, do you know what occurred when you rescued Gabrielle?"

"Not a clue, since no one decided to tell me squat," he said.

She nodded. "Well, did she say anything to you?"

Harry nodded. "Couldn't tell you what though, I am afraid I never learned French."

"She tends to fall back to that when she is emotional," said Fleur in perfect English.

Harry blinked. Where was the accent? Where were the slang-style pronunciations? Why the hell was she dry and he was still soaked? "What happened to your accent?"

"I cast a small charm so that we could understand each other with no problem," said Dumbledore with a smile and a twinkle.

Harry blinked. Wow, such a charm might actually be useful to be taught. He had to sigh at that. That would assuredly mean it would never be taught here. "Anyone going to explain anything or should I just go to sleep while you keep me in suspense?"

Did he mention how irritated being cold and hungry made him?

"It is quite simple, Harry," said Fleur, raising his hopes that he might finally learn why he had been sitting there for the last forty-five minutes. "Gabrielle has claimed you as her mate."

The only sound heard was the snorted chuckling of Moody.

"... What?" asked Harry. That had to have been a glitch in the translation charm.

"You saved my sister, and she viewed you as the perfect male, so she claimed you as her mate. What she told you on the docks were the mating vow of the Veela tribes."

Snape wanted to comment that obviously the girl's standards were pretty low, but he was currently still trying to bandage his wounds.

Harry just blinked. "You all realize she's eight, right."

"She could not have transformed as she did unless she had begun to enter Veela maturity," said Fleur.

"She's eight."

"As such, she is free to choose her mate."

"She ... is ... eight."

"And such vows are for life."

Harry just growled. Why was everyone missing the fact she was eight? But then Fleur's last words struck him. "This is just like that Goblet contract, isn't it?" he asked Dumbledore.

"I am afraid so Harry," said the elderly man. "And by the Ministry laws in France, she can claim such a title. Veela are very selective of who they make that vow to."

_Mental note: study laws._ Harry was really beginning to wish that dragon had killed him in the first task. "She's eight," he pointed out once again.

"It need not be now," said Fleur. "But she will seek you out when the desire strikes her."

"And when will that be?" he asked, not noticing the blush on the face of the girl on his arm.

"It depends on the Veela," said Fleur. "But in the eyes of the law, you two are now wed.

"I will need to contact my family; they will want to know of this."

_Mental note: check and see first if there is some law that says don't tell Harry Potter about any laws._ "Don't I get a say in this?"

"Did you not allow her to say the words and kiss you on the cheek?" asked Fleur.

"Yes."

"Then you accepted."

_Mental note: study Dark Lords; they may have started out because stupid laws screwed them over, want to make sure I don't repeat what led them to die._

"Do I upset you, beloved?" asked Gabrielle in her sing-song voice.

Harry turned towards her, wanting to explain that he truly had no idea what had occurred until just now. Sadly though, those thoughts disappeared as he literally saw fire in her eyes. "Um ... just for information, what happens if I do not wish to ... mate?"

"Veela are temperamental creatures, boy," said Moody with a snort. "Trust me, saying no ain't an option. It'd be safer to walk up to Voldermont and piss on his robes."

Harry gulped, turning quickly back to his ...wife. "Nope, not upset at all."

"YEAH!" cried the mini-Veela, as she hugged him.

Not in the mood for anymore surprises—and knowing that anymore would only come if he didn't know about them and thus would never be told about them beforehand—he decided it would probably be best to go eat, bath, and sleep. Hopefully, he'd wake up to find out it was all some dream brought on by nearly drowning. "I ... I'll be going now."

Dumbledore nodded. "Sleep well, Harry."

The boy nodded as he left, not even trying to remove the girl from his arm, since doing so might bring forth the BBH and send him to the hospital wing.

* * *

"Albus," said McGonagall with a glare, "how could you not inform the boy of the rules that he needs to comply with now?"

"He's tired and hungry, Minerva," said Dumbledore in a calm voice. "We can deal with these issues for him."

"The boy deserves to have input on the woman who will be his First Wife!" said McGonagall exasperated.

And thus one more unknown law was coming forth to bite Harry in the ass. Since Gabrielle had declared their marriage by Veela custom and not legal marriage through the Ministry, she could only classify as either Mistress or Second Wife. That meant Harry needed a first wife within two weeks, or he could be fined, beaten, and sentenced to community service. Of course, that could all be fixed if Harry and Gabrielle would undergo a civil marriage service. Unlike the Muggle system, where there were age limits to marriage, the Wizard system was still working on laws based off the early millennia, and as such did not require age limits. Some said it was a throwback to old Pureblood meddling—you married them young, then they couldn't disobey and marry someone beneath their station. Others believe it was just the fact the ruling bodies never took the time to revise old laws for the current times.

But the important thing that once again, it was an option that common sense would have fixed, but people who believed they were helping Harry by keeping him in the dark would prevent from ever being seen.

Olympe just growled. "Just get them married in a civil ceremony," she snapped. Why were the British Wizards so stupid?

"I'm afraid it is much too late for that," said Dumbledore with a sad frown. "By now, it is probably going to be announced in tomorrow's _Daily Prophet_. Gather the Heads of the Houses. We must have them select the best candidates for marriage to Harry Potter."

"Shouldn't we ask Harry's opinion?" asked Fleur. While she was upset that her sister was going to have a co-wife—and promising that if whoever she married tried that, she would clip certain fun parts from them—she was most upset that this information was being held from her brave brother-in-law.

"No time," said Dumbledore. "Now go and select your candidates."

Olympe sighed. No matter what happened, she was never going to allow her school to compete in another Tri-Wizard Tournament with Hogwarts. Aside from Hagrid, they were all idiots.

"And how will you decide who will marry Harry?" asked Moody.

"Why the Goblet of Fire, of course," said the Headmaster.

"You mean the bloody thing that put four people in a three-person tournament and no one knows why?" asked Moody.

"I'm sure it will be fine by then."

* * *

Snape sat in his office, considering his students. True, he had some care for the boy he would have sacrificed to save Lily Evans, and while part of him did want to see the boy marry a girl who would make him suffer—especially after the BBH attacked him—he knew he would never be able to face Lily in the next life if he did so.

No, he would need to suggest a Slytherin who had no ties to the Dark Lord, whose family remained neutral enough to stay out of the War. The last thing he would want to do is give Voldermont a tie into the Potter boy to set him up for a trap. If he did come back like many believed, and the Dark Mark suggested, he needed a level of deniability.

The Greengrass family did have a daughter, a noble pure-blood heritage—which meant they didn't marry too many close cousins and unlike the Malfoys, had yet to be brought up on any charges—and no ties to the Dark or Light side in the War. They mainly sat back, waited it out, and made no waves. After all, there resourcefulness did keep them alive, and disregard for demands to choose a side went unanswered. Many of their fortunes came from what occurred after such wars. Someone did have to rebuild, and the contracts for such did generate lots of galleons.

When he scanned her mind, she truly didn't care about muggles and muggle-born one way or the other. She felt they just weren't worth any effort to think about.

Nodding slightly—and fighting the urge to choose Millicent Bulstrode—he placed her name on the parchment.

* * *

Professor Filius Flitwick looked over his notes on the female students in his dorm. The problem was choosing a female he knew to be single, as well as a complement to Harry Potter, as well as his ... other wife.

He still blinked at that. "Only the Purebloods could have made such a stupid rule," he muttered, but promised to assign it as extra credit to his students to see if they could find out whom and why it was used for first. Part of him concluded it was a Slytherin, while another part concluded that whoever it was, had to be a politician.

He narrowed it down to two names, one in Harry's current year, and one a year younger. While Mandy Brocklehurst was single, it was quite obvious that a few of the male Ravenclaws and at least two Hufflepuffs had eyes for her.

Of course, Luna Lovegood... Honestly, he was worried the girl would ever find a boyfriend, let alone a husband. He had had to discipline several students for harassing the poor girl, and he had noticed how lonely she was.

Well, it wasn't a completely logical choice, but he figured it would at least help the two out. Nodding, he placed Luna's name on the parchment.

* * *

Professor Pomona Sprout, the Head of Hufflepuff House, sat in her favorite greenhouse, trying to decide on which student she would have to choose to submit for the possibility of First Wife to Harry Potter.

"I didn't even know he wanted to get married," she murmured, looking at the parchment containing the names of students in her House. She had already crossed off many of those names, either deciding they were too old, too young, or had character traits that wouldn't likely help precipitate a long marriage.

"Really, I just don't understand why they are marrying so early these days," she muttered, crossing off another five names, pretty sure those were boys. "I do wish I could have asked the boy why he wanted to be married so soon. You think he'd want to marry for love. Must be some pureblood promises or such going to bite him on the bottom if he's still single soon..."

This was yet another case of needed information not being given out. After all, she hadn't seen the Second Contest, nor been part of the blowout in the office. She'd only received a request to submit the name of a student of her house for the chance to be the First Mrs. Harry Potter.

"A student who displays tolerance, loyalty, and a fair attitude," she said, looking at the remaining names, and immediately crossed off the name of Hannah Abbott, remembering the badge the girl had worn to one class.

"Just leaves a few names," she said with a sad sigh. Really, was so many taken out by so few requirements? "I'm going to have to talk to them about this. This isn't shaping up to be a very Hufflepuff House. I can understand the age and gender knocking out a few, but really, I'm down to three names."

Looking over the girls, she decided it would probably be best for her to choose Susan Bones. The girl did have political connections, had a history of family lost in the War, and had enough humility not to pester the boy about things he'd rather not discuss.

"I just hope her Aunt will forgive me for submitting her name. I had hoped they would all find love.

"Then again, could have been worse. At least the Potter boy didn't die during the Mandrake class. A lot better than my first beau.

"Then again, Fredrick wasn't a real bright boy; cute, but not bright..."

The rest of the night was spent remembering her own years as a little girl at Hogwarts.

* * *

Professor Minerva McGonagall sighed as she went over the student records. She had just informed her students of what was being asked of them—well, the female ones and not Ms. Granger, even she could see the girl had eyes for the Weasley boy—thanks to Albus keeping Harry in the dark ... again.

She was starting to worry. Was the Headmaster still all there?

* * *

"Sir?" asked Fitch.

"Yes?" asked Dumbledore.

"Why are you dancing naked in the Great Hall?"

"Um ... fixing the Goblet of Fire, complicated ritual."

The caretaker nodded slowly as he left.

* * *

No, doubting him at this moment would not do. She was certain he was preparing to contact the families of the girls they suggested for this match up. It was bad enough they had been unable to legally wed Harry to Gabrielle. But this first wife would need to be special and understanding—since she would be expected to share her husband.

And by Merlin, it would be a Gryffindor girl if she had anything to say about it.

But who to choose... There were a few possibilities that she had decided, those she had noticed were unpaired.

But then she recalled the Yule Ball, and how well Harry had looked with his date. Sure, they had gotten off poorly, but it did remind her of how she met her own husband. Even Harry's parents had started off poorly.

Nodding her head, she placed Parvati Patil's name on the parchment.

* * *

Molly looked at the tray before her, the final stages of her plan already to begin. She remembered the frantic floo-call from her daughter, telling her what had occurred to poor Harry. Really, the boy had no luck.

Well, she was going to help the boy right now! Tossing some powder into the fire, she placed a call.

* * *

Dumbledore had finally placed his robes back on, having finished enjoying his moonlight dance ... that was supposed to fix the Goblet. Yes, that was what he did.

"Albus?"

He turned, looking towards his fireplace. "Molly, what can I do for you?" he asked; a twinkle in his eye.

"I was hoping to come through. I need to discuss something with you."

"Of course," he said, stepping back to allow her to come through the fire.

She emerged easily, being far more used to floo-travel than Harry was, a platter in her hands showing no damage on the intricate pattern of snacks on it.

Dumbledore was about to ask her what her question was, when his nose pointed out just what those snacks were. "Molly, are those..."

"My famous tart lemon wedges," she said with a smile.

"R-r-really?" He felt his throat dry as his mouth began to water at the sight of those delectable candies.

"Extra sour," she murmured, waving the platter under his nose. "I believe this is my best batch yet."

The elderly Headmaster was hypnotized by the sweets. "What is thy bidding, my Master?" he said in a soft voice.

"I want my daughter's name in the Goblet of Fire."

He came out of his daze at those words. "I'm sorry Molly, but the Tournament has already begun. Maybe next year we can—"

"I mean for Harry's First Wife," she said, pulling the plate back. Really, why would he joke at a time like this?

He blinked owlishly. "Harry; right, right," he said, turning to his desk, and looking at the magic parchment. It had four names on it already, but there was just enough room to add a fifth name. Writing down Ginny Weasley's name, he turned back towards his reward. "Now then, may I perchance have some of those delectable snacks?"

She nodded happily as she handed him the tray, as he scampered off to the other side of the office, muttering "the precious". It looked like her daughter would get her chance to marry poor Harry. After all, surely Professor McGonagall would have chosen Ginny as the Gryffindor representative.

Right?

* * *

Barty Crouch Jr, still in the form of Alastor Moody, looked at the Goblet of Fire, an insane smirk on his face. All he had to do was place a Confoundus Charm on the Goblet once again, insert his parchment that had the four names of Death Eaters whose daughters attended the school, and wait till it chose one of them instead of those selected by the Houses. After it did, it would be easy for the new 'wife' to send Mr. Potter directly to Lord Voldermont.

Nodding at the brilliance of the plan, he stepped towards the Goblet, wand raised.

Sadly, he didn't see the 'magic circle' Dumbledore had drawn on the floor, since it was supposed to help him with his dance moves.

Reacting violently now thanks to the charms already on the Goblet, the Moody imposter was electrocuted in a violent display like none before, reducing both him and his bespelled parchment to dust.

The good news was that the real Moody would be found in three days, since only the trunk key remained in the dust.

The bad news was that Harry would be too screwed to be saved by then, since he did have time to confound the object once again.

Well, that and it would take that long for the house elf that had cleaned the mess to discover that the shiny key wasn't theirs to keep.

* * *

As daylight entered the Gryffindor dorms, Harry Potter's mind slowly came awake. After a large meal, a hot bath—which took some doing so his ... wife ... didn't follow him into it—he decided sleep was what the medical witch ordered.

Opening his eyes slowly, he frowned as he caught site of a mop of silvery blond hair lying against his chest. _I swear to Merlin, if Fred or George transfigured something or someone to look like Malfoy and put him in my bed again, so help me..._

"Bonjour, mon amour," came the sweet and innocent voice of said silvery-blond head, as she smiled at him, looking up once again, before burrowing her head back into his side.

Harry could only blink. _How the Hell did she get in my room? I thought I left her at the carriage?_

It was then that he finally realized something: security sucked at Hogwarts. That is unless of course she did many painful things to the Caretaker and his annoying cat.

_Well, there are worse ways to wake up. I mean, we're both clothed._ He quickly used his free hand not currently being forced to hold the dangerous Veela, to check under the sheets and confirm that they were both wearing night clothes. _But her being here ... I feel like such a pervert._

_And she's only eight! Why the Hell am I always ending up in stuff like this? I mean, can't I have a normal school year where no one tries to kill me or anyone else, where I just go to class, eat, sleep, and play Quidditch? _

While Harry was silently fuming about the unfairness of life, the poor protection at Hogwarts—I mean, a possessed teacher, a troll, a Basilisk, Dementors, and who knew what else had no trouble getting in, as well as things like the Mirror of Erised just laying about where anyone could find them—and the possibility of never having a normal life; his part-Veela companion was enjoying her first night with her husband. He didn't hog the covers, which put him leagues ahead of her sister. He didn't become pushy like she had heard most married guys were, demanding something called 'happy endings'.

She didn't know what it was, but she had heard her mother and several of the neighborhood women complain about it. Gabrielle wondered why 'happy endings' were so bad.

But so far, her husband had been a perfect gentleman. Yes, she had chosen well. Now, if they could just get a room by themselves. She didn't like the way they looked at her.

* * *

"Ron!" gasped Lavender, seeing her house-mate come down the stairs from the boys' dorm, holding a bruised wrist and sporting a black eye and a busted lip. "What the hell happened?"

"I fell," he quickly said, not wanting to admit he had been beaten up earlier by an eight-year-old for snoring too loudly.

* * *

"UNACCEPTABLE!" yelled the father of the neo-bride. "I shall not let such an injustice stand!

"How dare that boy play with my daughter's feelings and not marry her properly, insisting he have another wife!"

Fleur would have corrected her enraged father, but he tended to be more proactive if he was severely upset. It was odd though, she had told the complete and unspun truth, and somehow, Harry had come out the villain. _The man must have been cursed with bad luck..._

"That's it!" bellowed the round man. "We're going to that blasted English School right now and beat some sense into that boy, before he further dishonors my little petite angel!"

Well, it wasn't quite what Madame Maxime had meant when she insisted Fleur get her parents help to straighten out this mess, but it was close.

* * *

Harry had no idea why the Goblet of Fire was back in the Great Hall during breakfast, or why it looked like someone had tried to pour something on the ground that spelled out 'Dumb" in English using something he severely hoped was not what it smelled like. But he knew it couldn't end well.

"Well, well, Potter," sneered Malfoy, walking towards the Gryffindor table with his two bodyguards, "it looks like you finally found a girlfriend. Never figured you for liking them that young, but I guess considering how pathetic you are at dates, you need to get them before they know better—OW! GET HER OFF! GET HER OFF!"

Well, at least he had a good show for breakfast, considering his self-proclaimed wife was now tearing into Malfoy, Goyle, and Crabbe.

"Harry," said Hermione, focusing more on what she thought was important, as Ron cheered on the little girl's maiming of the Syltherin boys, "what's in the book?"

"Trying to learn a translation charm," he said. The last thing Harry wanted to do was get caught in some other promise ceremony that would bury him.

"They have those?" asked Hermione in awe. "That would be great for going places where they don't speak English."

"Or in a school where two others don't," said Harry, as his 'wife' came back, spitting out some blond hair, and wiping some blood off of her shirt.

Hermione just looked as the little school girl attaching herself to Harry. Wanting to get a second opinion and perhaps find out if he knew if this was expected for some sort of reason, she turned towards Ron. "Ron, why is... What happened to your eye?"

"I FELL!" he cried quickly.

Ginny just giggled. "Someone apparently was upset at brother-dear's snoring habits."

"Bloody time," said Fred.

"Too true, Brother dear," said George.

"Communis Commercium," Harry finally said, waving his wand, as a white sphere formed and popped.

"That was beautiful," Gabrielle said in perfect English.

"She knows English?" asked Ron.

"HARRY POTTER!"

Everyone turned to the now bursting open doors, revealing the champion of Beauxbatons, following a bellowing round man with a short black beard and a stately woman with long silvery-blond hair.

"Mama!" screamed Gabrielle. "Papa! You have come to meet my mate, yes?"

Harry cringed as the two glared at him from across the Great Hall. _I sense a great need to run._

He would have too, had not his 'wife' been holding onto him so tightly.

"There," growled the man, as the stately woman—now known to be Gabrielle and Fleur's mother—barely restrained from going into her BBH form. The duo marched over, with Fleur racing to the main table to talk to her Headmistress.

The two parents finally arrived, glaring at the boy.

"So this is ... him?" spat Apolline Delacour.

Harry blinked. "Um ... did I say or do something wrong no one told me about?" he asked. Damn it, it would be his luck to have something like that happen.

"Why are you angry at my Mate?" growled Gabrielle, her own form showing she was just as close as her Mother into turning into a BBH.

"Do you know what this ... this ... this little piece of shit is doing?" growled the mysterious father.

Harry just sagged into his seat. "Great, what am I being blamed for this time."

"I believe I can answer that," said the large and imposing form of Olympe Maxime. "If you would calm down, Jean-Luc, we could discuss this."

"THIS LITTLE BASTARD IS TWO-TIMING MY GENTLE LITTLE ANGEL!"

"WHAT?" came the yell of everyone in the Great Hall.

"Harry?" growled his wife, slowly turning towards him, eyes filled with fire ... literally. "Explain?"

"I'm afraid the boy doesn't know," said Olympe. "The stupid British wizards have wanted to let the boy remain ignorant, claiming it is for his own protection."

Harry blinked, before he started to pound his head on the table. "It **is** a bloody law, I knew it!"

"Then the boy doesn't know?" asked Jean-Luc.

"Know what?" asked Gabrielle.

"If you and Harry had been married last night, then all would have been fine," said Olympe. "Sadly, the British Wizards decided otherwise, and now Harry must marry a witch selected by that bloody Goblet so your marriage will be legal."

Harry stopped pounding his head, which snapped to view the half giant at those words. "DON'T I GET A BLOODY SAY IN THIS?"

"Excuse me," said Dumbledore from the Head Table, taking his place at the podium. "We are about to begin. We merely need to wait for the Goblet to produce the name of the selected new Wife for Harry Potter, chosen by the Heads of House.

Harry paled. He knew several Slytherin females he most certainly did not want to see the naughty bits of. As a bit of parchment emerged from the fire, his wand quickly came up. If they never read the name, he was safe. "Incendio!"

Sadly, the flame missed a direct hit due to the random flutterings of the paper. But a good bit was removed before it was caught by Dumbledore, who extinguished it.

"Now, that wasn't very nice, Harry," said the elderly man with a twinkle in his eye. "We almost lost the winner, a Ms.," he said pausing, as the first name had been burned away. "Ms. Patil, would you stand up?"

A glaring Gryffindor and a confused Ravenclaw stood.

"Two?" asked Dumbledore confused, before he remembered he did have several pairs of twins in the school. "Hmm, well it seems Mr. Potter has gained two wives this day. Now we—"

He was cut off not by a flying hex from Harry—who was raising his wand to do so—nor from as angry father or a Delacour in her BBH form—which they were changing into, including peaceful Fleur—but by the Goblet spitting out four more pieces of parchment, each which were caught by Dumbledore.

"Ah, it appears I was mistaken," he said, reading the parchments. "Ms. Ginevra Weasley, Ms. Susan Bones, Ms. Luna Lovegood, and Ms. Daphne Greengrass are also to be wed to Mr. Harry Potter this day, so says the Goblet of Fire."

Harry just fell to his knees. In the span of two days he had not only gotten one wife, but now five others—the fact that there were only four Heads of House and five names popped out was beside the point.

"Bloody hell," gasped Ron. "Why does Harry get so many women? What about the rest of us?"

His tongue was stopped by a vicious right cross from Hermione.

"Now, Harry," said Dumbledore, "if you and your new fiancées could come here for—OW!" he cried as three BBHs, one female half giant, and one irate father began to attack him.

Before anything else could happen, Harry ran for it, barely getting out the door, and praying he could make it to safety before his ... wives ... wanted certain words with him.

* * *

He wasn't going to move from this spot, not one foot.

Some would wonder why Harry felt safe at the moment. After all, surely there wasn't one spot he could hide and be safe from angry teachers, father-in-laws, new wives, first wives, friends, enemies, Goblets of Fire, and Headmasters that were so going to get a Bat Bogey hex when he figured out how to do it.

But there was one place: the Chamber of Secrets.

"Dobby has finished, Great Harry Potter," said the happy house-elf, as he finished shifting the place into a suitable bunker for the Boy Who Lived to hide in until either the pressure died off or he did.

"Thanks Dobby," he said. "Now remember, I don't want anyone else to know I'm here, to be able to get to me, or force me to leave. I just want you and you alone to be able to come down here with food and drink, to help me out."

"Dobby will do!" cried the ecstatic house elf, as he popped away.

Harry smiled. He was finally safe. No Veela, no multiple witches as wives, no Ron glaring at him for both having more women than him as well as the Weasley girl, no Snape...

But most of all, he knew for all certainty that it couldn't get worse.

* * *

**Boy Who Lived Marries!**

**First Wife Speaks**

_By Rita Skeeter_

_**I spent the afternoon at Hogwarts this day in preparations for the festivities of the Triwizard Tournament today, expecting the usual hoopla that occurs between the events, namely boring speeches and such, as they wound down from the Second Challenge.**_

_**I certainly did not expect this day to have an interview with a nice young woman who had apparently married the Boy Who Lived, Harry James Potter. And dear readers, it was not Hermione Granger, whom I had reported earlier was in a torrid love affair with him.**_

_**It was the sister of a fellow contestant of the Tournament, Gabrielle Delacour.**_

_**In case you haven't heard of her, or read the previous articles I ran on the selected Triwizard Champions (see Page 4 for a reprint), she is an eight-year-old quarter-Veela.**_

_**I was lucky to get a chance to chat with this young bride and learn some more about how they met, and what their plans are now.**_

_Rita: So you are married to Harry now. How did this come about?_

_Gabrielle: When he rescued me from the Second Challenge, I just looked into his eyes. Mama always said you could see a lot about someone when you looked there. And they were filled with everything I always wanted to find in a husband. So I asked him to marry me in Veela customs, and he said yes! I was so happy!_

_Rita: But what about his unsorted past?_

_Gabrielle: Oh, I don't mind. We have our entire lives to get to know each other._

_Rita: Have you already had a honeymoon yet?_

_Gabrielle: Our wedding night? Oh, it was wonderful! He held me in his arms, he was so gentle..._

* * *

"I'LL KILL HIM!" came the scream that thundered throughout the halls of Hogwarts, as one father-in-law read only a small sample of his daughter's interview. 


	2. Starting with a Line

**Starting with a Line**

Disclaimer: I don't own this series or any other series. I am just floating an idea. I am making no money, nor plan to, off this venture. If you think of suing me over this, then grow up.

I would like to first personally thank all of those reviewing my stories. I enjoy reading your comments, and try to correct the grammatical errors I miss with my final read-through as well as my spell checkers. The suggestions you all make will help make this story better for everyone to enjoy, as well as allow my to fix some plot holes I may unintentionally leave. If you find any, let me know, and I will correct them and repost the chapters.

* * *

**Note:** On a forum I am a member of, there was a contest to see who could design an omake for Harry Potter with the following starting line:

**"Um, I don't think that will fit."**

Here were my three entries. Enjoy.

* * *

"Um, I don't think that will fit."

Hermione blinked, pausing in her descent down the stairs towards the Common Room. What was that?

"Move, Hermione," grumbled a few girls behind her.

"Damn it Ron, not so hard!" yelled Harry from the Common Room. "That hurts, you know."

"Sorry mate, got a little excited."

"Well stop being such a prat, I'm doing this for you after all."

The girls all stared at the corner, mouths open, at what they just heard.

"Damn it Harry, help me here. I'm trying to wiggle it in."

A few more grunts were heard, before Harry cursed out loud. "Damn it, Ron. It won't fit. We need to stop, maybe try a shrinking charm."

"No way, you know what that'll do to it?"

A few girls were now developing a keen interest in a certain Weasley. "Mom was right," said one Third Year. "The good ones are taken or gay."

"Listen, you push towards me, Harry, and I'll push towards you, and we should be able to get it in."

Hermione braced herself against the wall. She knew some of the girls had been gossiping about which boy she would date first--being a trio and all. But she didn't expect ... this!

"It's in!" yelled Ron, as Harry made a loud gasp.

"I think it broke my back!"

The girls rushed forward, wanting to either catch the yaoi sight they believed was occurring, or in Hermione's case, discover why she hadn't been informed.

But nothing prepared her for what she saw. "Ronald Weasley! You are not keeping that troll's club!"

Ron looked up from the floor, where Harry was lying, both next to the club of the troll that had tried to kill them in the girls' bathroom. "But it would be so cool!"

* * *

"Um, I don't think that will fit."

"Are you sure, Harry?" asked Luna, both staring at the topic in question.

"Well, relatively sure," said Harry.

"But it is squishy, and the ball won't break."

"Maybe so," he said, bending down to look closer. "But it is just too big to fit into the little glass balls they use to store predictions, even if you make them unbreakable."

Luna nodded as she lowered herself as well. "Perhaps we need to reshape the object. I'm certain it will fit."

Harry shook his head. "Reshaping the object is sorta cheating, isn't it."

"Mr. Potter, Ms. Lovegood!" yelled Professor McGonagall as she strutted up to the two. "What do you think you are doing?"

"We're trying to stuff a transfigured dung beetle into a prophecy orb," said Luna.

Minerva was not accepting it. "Release Mr. Malfoy this instant!"

"But we're so close," pleaded Luna.

A loud smushing sound made its way to their ears as said ... 'beetle' ... compacted and filled the ball, only one eye visible from outside the glass sphere.

"Did Dobby help Harry Potter?" asked the free house elf, complete innocence written on his face, despite the fact he had just forced a one hundred and twenty five pound Malfoy into a sixteen ounce ball.

Harry shrugged as Minerva passed out. "I'll be damned, he did fit. Thanks Dobby."

Luna just smiled as the house elf danced about in utter joy. "Now Harry, I have another bet for you," she said, dragging him off to the Room of Requirements. "I want to see if something else snake-like fits what I have in mind."

* * *

"Um, I don't think that will fit."

Harry blinked, before turning away from Ginny and looking to his right, spotting Luna. "What?"

"I don't think that will fit," she said, repeating her statement.

"Sure it will," growled Ginny. "Now get to it, Harry."

"Why don't you think it'll fit?" asked Harry.

"Oh, it's much too large to fit in there."

"It is not too big!" yelled Ginny.

"Well ... it's kinda big," said Harry with uncertainty. Was it too big?

"It is rather large," agreed Luna.

"It is smaller than it, if nothing else!" yelled Ginny.

Harry began to look sad. "Is it really too small?"

Ginny just sighed as she took the card from Harry. "Listen, this card will fit in the envelop. We can owl it to Hermione and Ron and everything will be fine, they'll love it."

"Oh," said Luna. "The anniversary card, right..."

The two blinked, before turning towards Luna. "What did you think we were talking about?" asked Ginny.

"Well, when I came by an hour ago, you were telling Harry it was too big. I assumed you were still having the same argument. People with thribble infestations have the same argument for days."

The couple blushed deeply at that. "Um ... we were talking about something else," quickly said Ginny.

Harry just smiled. "And it did fit, I told you it would."

"Can I see it fit?" asked Luna. She'd never seen these weird envelop things before. _I wonder why they're blushing so much._


	3. The Great Escape

**The Great Escape**

Disclaimer: I don't own this series or any other series. I am just floating an idea. I am making no money, nor plan to, off this venture. If you think of suing me over this, then grow up.

I would like to first personally thank all of those reviewing my stories. I enjoy reading your comments, and try to correct the grammatical errors I miss with my final read-through as well as my spell checkers. The suggestions you all make will help make this story better for everyone to enjoy, as well as allow my to fix some plot holes I may unintentionally leave. If you find any, let me know, and I will correct them and repost the chapters.

* * *

It was a solemn gathering at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Only hours ago, during a shift change in the guard protecting Harry Potter, was it noticed that the Boy-Who-Lived had disappeared. 

What followed was an immediate call to arms by Professor Dumbledore, a gathering of all the Order members to determine what had happened, and where Harry Potter might be now.

It was also a time when many members were debating about using the Unforgivables on Mundungus "Dung" Fletcher for not only skipping out early on his turn in guard duty, but basically leaving the moment the previous guard had apparated away.

"Alastor," said Dumbledore, his voice heavy and worried, "what do we know?"

"That Mundungus should be executed."

The man whimpered a bit, reminding quite a few of a sniveling Wormtail.

"Aside from that," said Dumbledore, resolving that the man was going to need a serious talking to about responsibility.

"From what we can gather, a small team entered the area when Mundungus abandoned his post," growled Moody.

* * *

A young silvery blond girl hopped off the Knight Bus, a smile on her face, as she turned and curtsied the driver, causing both the conductor and the driver to smile and wave at her, before the doors shut. 

When the bus departed with its usual bang, the blond girl looked around, trying to find the landmarks she needed. "I believe ... this way," she said, glad for once that unlike her older sister, she actually listened to her grandmother and studied English.

* * *

"From there, we believe they met up with a team of Dementors. We're not really sure what happened at that point, but they did something to them." 

"Dementors!" cried Molly Weasley. "By Merlin, what were they doing there?"

"I believe that either Voldemort sent them, or another force sent them. Judging by the area, I'd say the most likely target was Harry. And judging by what remained of them, I'd say the team that took Harry didn't take kindly to someone trying to take their prize."

* * *

Gabrielle glared at the two Dementors before her, her skin already feeling the chilling effect the creatures produced in all life forms, something she found difficult to shake off, even with the fact her blood was one quarter Veela. 

Of course, that also gave her a small advantage. Centuries before, when the Dementors were a problem still in the wizarding world, one wizard studied the one entity that seemed to be immune to the Dementors, whose very presence was as painful to a Dementor as a Dementor was to a human.

He studied the Veela.

Now while the Dementors could feed off positive emotions, they had trouble handling concentrated amounts of it. Of course, he soon realized that non-full-blooded Veela could feel the effects of the Dementors. Thus he discovered that a form that could feel no pain, no despair would repel Dementors. And when the wizard finally understood this, as the Veela themselves were always full of positive emotions, he thus developed the Patronus Charm.

For a Veela of full blood, they are beings of sexual energy. And while being rejected would hurt them, they had a smaller ability to feel negative emotions than a human could. But even the partial Veela were granted the same weapons as the full-blooded sisters.

Smirking, Gabrielle summoned two fireballs in her hands, and launched them at the approaching Dementors. The creatures cried out in pain, as the balls of lust burned into their torturous forms, and killed them.

Hopping over to their forms, Gabrielle tilted her head a bit. The Dementors were dead, now slowly dissolving into piles of neon green slime—something she found oddly both disgusting and very cool at the same time. But their cloaks seemed to hang around.

Shrugging, she picked them up, her fingers tingling when she felt that they had absorbed part of the magical aura of their former hosts.

"Oh, Harry will love these," she thought. Fleur had spoken of how the boy preferred to shun his celebrity status. Surely cloaks like these would help him.

With that, she resumed her skipping towards Privet Drive.

* * *

"What does the Ministry have to say about Dementors in Little Whinging?" asked Sirius. 

Kingsley Shacklebolt sighed. "Fudge is trying to sweep it under the rug, but this is one instance where Skeeter is being useful," he said, holding up the latest _Daily Prophet_. "It appears that they are still trying to decide between rogue Dementors who escaped or a corrupt official who was planning on using Harry's reports of Voldemort's return to fuel their own propaganda and become a new threat to the Wizarding World."

Remus snorted. "In other words, someone wanted to send them after Harry and shut him up."

Shacklebolt nodded. "That's my opinion. I'm still looking to see who may have had the ability to send two Dementors to do this, more at Fudge supporters than Voldemort's. I think the Dark Lord wants Potter alive, and Dementors do not go out into the open like this in such a small number just to feed."

"This is abominable, Albus!" bellowed Minerva McGonagall. "How can we protect Harry from the Ministry as well as Voldemort?"

"Rest assured, I will be adding to the wards around Harry's home to prevent such things in the future."

"Could have just kept the cub here for his safety," grumbled Sirius. "Or perhaps nipped their little slander campaign in the bud by offering them Harry's memories of Voldemort's resurrection. Who knows, it may have even got them off my ass. How goes your plans for proving my innocence by the way?"

"Now is not the time for second guesses or other issues," said Dumbledore, both to admonish the group for getting off topic, and to partially relieve his own sense of guilt for the moment. "Continue please, Alastor."

The man snorted, before continuing. "We discovered that Potter's family," he said, spitting out the last word, "had been stunned before the boy was taken."

"Stunned?" said Remus. "Death Eaters only stun to torture later. They were still there?"

Moody nodded. "Whoever did it appeared to only want Potter."

* * *

Gabrielle knocked on the door of Number Four Privet Drive, a smile on her face. Her beloved was here, now of all places. Her sister hadn't known much of the place, only what her Headmistress knew from her talks with the Hogwarts Gamekeeper. But from what she could tell ... this place sucked, and that was her upper-class opinion. How a person such as Harry Potter stood this place was beyond her understanding for the moment. Then again, it might be something she'd understand once she turned ten. 

"What is it?" grumbled Vernon Dursley as he opened the door.

"Hello," smiled Gabrielle, as she looked up. Her mother and grandmother always stressed that politeness was what civilized people used, not violence.

"I am looking for Harry Potter," she said with utmost politeness.

"You're one of those freaks, aren't you," he growled out quietly.

Gabrielle growled. Okay, so Fleur was right. So what? It just meant turning this piece of shit into a pile of cinders or slime—she'd rather think humans like this would end up forming slime like a Dementor after burning—was out of the question.

Luckily, France did not have such stupid underage magic laws as the English, but rather a great program to teach all those with potential. "Stupefy," she said with a smile, as her magic lashed out from her wand and stunned Vernon.

Nodding her head that she had done the right thing, she stepped over the threshold of the home, before dragging the human by his feet after her, making sure she hit his head on the corners of the entrances between rooms.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" bellowed one woman, whose face reminded her of the less than beautiful horses at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. "Stupefy," Gabrielle said calmly, pointing her wand at the horse-faced woman.

Sighing, she looked at the two unconscious adults. "Why are adults so troublesome?" she wondered, as she spotted the perfect place to put them.

Looking around the first floor and not sensing anyone else in the house, she spotted a small cupboard by the stairs in which she could store the bodies. "Oh my, I hope they'll be okay in there," she said. It would simply not do to have Harry upset at her because she killed his relatives.

Karma's a bitch, ain't it.

* * *

"And they weren't able to say anything about their attackers?" asked Arthur Weasley. 

"Not much," grumbled Tonks. "Just that they were 'freaks like us'," she said with obvious anger in her voice. "I'd love to peek in their minds to find out, but I don't want to find anything that'll make me want to kill them," she finished with a growl more fitting of a certain werewolf, her hair turning dark red.

"Now Nymphadora," said Dumbledore, "that is not the way to do things."

"MY NAME IS TONKS!" she yelled back, barely holding back the curse she wished to send towards the Headmaster.

But Dumbledore pretended he hadn't heard her. "Please continue, Alastor."

"After the assailants put the Dursleys into the cupboard," he said with a smile, remembering the stories of Harry having spent his early life in there, "they waited until the children returned home, where they attacked the Dursley boy and placed him with his parents. What happened with Potter at this time is unknown; we only know that he arrived after the boy."

* * *

As soon as Harry entered his home at Privet drive, he noticed a small girl stuffing his cousin Dudley inside the very cupboard he had spent many a night sleeping in. "Um ... excuse me?" 

She eeped, slamming the door shut on the entire Dursley line ... literally—as well as causing a sound to be released like the wood paneling was about to bust open. "Hello, Harry Potter," she said, trying to curtsey and keep the door to the cupboard closed at the same time. It seemed the lock was just not able to handle the pressure it was now under.

"I know you?" he said casually, his hand slowly going for his wand. Expulsion be damned, he wasn't going to be killed by a pre-teen.

She nodded happily, as she ran and wrapped her hands and arms around him, surprisingly faster than he had been able to try and bring his wand up. "Mama was worried, as was Big Sister that you would not know me," she said with a smile and a perfect English accent.

He could only blink, staring down at the mop of combed silvery blond hair now nestled against his chest. Okay, so this was obviously not a Death Eater, doubtful it was someone Polyjuiced—he really didn't want to imagine a Death Eater wanting to hug him like this.

Now, who did he know with hair that color?

* * *

"They seemed to torture Harry a bit," said Moody. "Magical scans revealed that his head was hitting a wall very hard for a while and with quite a bit of force behind it."

* * *

_Die brain; DIE!_

Needless to say, the first image had been a certain Slytherin, and thus put the unwanted image of said Slytherin hugging Harry like that. As such, Harry was not trying to cause some brain damage so he could hopefully lose the memory forever. The traitorous brain needed to be taught a lesson

"Please stop that!" yelled Gabrielle, wondering why he was slamming his head into the wall.

* * *

"And no one saw anything odd?" bellowed Remus, glaring once again at Mundungus, and partially wishing he could just transform and tear into the man who allowed his friend's son to be captured by some unknown force that had apparently tortured poor Harry. 

"Alas, even Mrs. Figg detected nothing out of the ordinary," said Dumbledore. "It would appear that whoever kidnapped Harry was able to do so without using any Dark Arts or have a Dark Mark on their bodies."

"Then who took Harry?" yelled Molly.

"The brat probably joined some fan group," grumbled Snape.

"Hear that, Mooney," said Sirius with a smile, "our dear cub may be off with some fan girls?"

Remus just smirked, understanding what Sirius was trying to do. "Perhaps a junior or ten from our little Prongs Junior will be making their way to the world in nine months?"

A muffled female voice was heard outside the doors, cursing to the heavens.

Arthur leaned back into his seat, resolving that if anyone asked, he would say Ginny had to have heard those words from Molly. All he knew was that when the meeting was over, he was going to be dragged along as Molly both yelled at the girl for saying those words and ban her from joining a fan group.

"A whole classroom filled with Potters," said Sirius with a smile, turning to Snape. "Won't that be fun?"

"Enough!" yelled Moody. "This isn't about Potter fathering dozens of children," he said, hiding a smirk as he turned away from Snape. "We need to find the boy."

"Could he have been taken somewhere?" asked Tonks.

"The Knight Bus didn't pick anyone up in the area, only remembered dropping off a polite little girl, but they never picked anyone up."

"Do we know who the girl was?" asked Dumbledore.

"Tourist by how she acted," Moody added.

"Are you honestly saying a little girl kidnapped Harry Potter?" said Tonks.

"One can never be too careful my dear," said Dumbledore. "But I doubt it. Did she leave the area?"

"They heard her talk about visiting some Muggles," the grizzled auror said. "They probably gave her a lift or she spent the night. Quite a few Wizards and Witches live in the area she was dropped off at, and asking some questions would arouse too much attention."

"And the Knight Bus wasn't used to cart Harry off?" asked Remus.

"No; neither was Harry apparated or was a port key used anywhere near the area," grumbled Moody. "Unless a bloody house elf took him somewhere, I haven't the foggiest idea how his kidnappers got him out of there without using the Imperius Curse."

* * *

Harry gazed with an awed look on his face over what was the second train station he had ever seen in his life. The Waterloo Station was a far cry from the King's Cross station. And while he had been a bit worried that Gabrielle had taken him there by cab, he had to admit it would be nice to get away from things for a bit. 

Well, she had insisted he go. He could still recall the tale she spun, something involving her grandmother wishing to know the boy who had made such an impression on her two granddaughters.

Well, that and the fact he was still upset about some of the things she told him were being said about him in the papers. After learning that, he wanted to get away for a while. Maybe with him gone, Voldemort would reveal himself, or maybe even Dumbledore would do something other than sit back and twiddle his thumbs. Hell, his friends weren't even telling him anything. You'd think one of them would have mentioned the bull inside the _Daily Prophet._

He also made a mental note to both subscribe to it to keep better tabs on what wasn't being said or done, and to see if Muggle Libel Laws applied to the Wizarding World as well.

So they had taken a cab, and now she was at the station, waiting for Fleur. It seemed the older Delacour sister had just gotten a job at Gringott's. As such, she was going to use her last free weekend to visit her family before settling into the usual grind as a bank employee. "Why are we taking a muggle train?" he asked Gabrielle.

She tilted her head a bit. "It gives us time to talk. Plus, who would think to look for you on one?" she asked.

He had to agree with her there. Aside from the Hogwarts Express, he doubted that a Death Eater or even his jailers would discover him here. Come to think of it, only Gabrielle had been using any magic, so there was no trail to lead to him. "Makes sense to me," he said with a smile, causing the little Veela to giggle.

To anyone else looking, it would have been a cute scene. To the little Veela, this was the best date ever. Now, she just needed to quickly figure out how to explain that Fleur wasn't going to arrive, since she had taken an earlier train, not knowing that her little sister was already in England.

* * *

"We must assume then that he is somewhere still in England," sighed Dumbledore. "But we should have our contacts in the Ministry keep close tabs on all detected International Apparition and Port Keys," he added. 

"Already done," said Tonks. It was pretty hard to track any port keys or Apparition inside of Britain, due to simple volume. However, those that left the isle traveled in narrower corridors, corridors that rarely had the high traffic that prevented national tracking. And with Harry's magical signature already recorded, as well as that of his wand, any magic, even accidental or that used to heal the injuries of a Wizard, would be immediately found. At that moment, a quick Apparition and they would be there to save the defenseless and kidnapped boy.

Molly began to wail. "We have to find him!" she cried. "Who knows what they're doing to that poor child! Will someone please think of the children?"

Moody just grunted a bit. He knew all too well the torture techniques used by Death Eaters and their type. And he felt no need to inform those ideas to the group, as it would only lead to an increase in Molly's wailing. After all, what good would it serve to remind them that at this very moment, the boy was likely either undergoing or resting from recent torture?

* * *

Harry sighed as he spun around once more. 

"Magnificent," smirked the shopkeeper, looking at the newest set of clothes Harry was trying on.

It was bad enough she had paid for his ticket. It was bad enough that Fleur had missed them, and they had to take another train, a train in which she stayed glued to his side, chatting.

Well, that hadn't been as bad. It was kind of nice she hadn't asked about his scar, Voldemort, what happened to Cedric, or any other bad memories of his life. She had seemed interested in him for simply being him. Kind of a nice change.

But the bad part was that they had stopped off on their way to Delacour Manor to pick up some new clothes for Harry. Apparently Gabrielle's grandmother knew of Harry's lack of suitable muggle clothing, and gave them enough funds to buy some more. And while he did want to make a good first impression meeting this woman—who seemed to know quite a bit about him—and the fact that wearing Dudley's hand-me-downs would likely diminish that, he still felt it was wrong, taking their charity when he didn't need it. After all, he could get the funds he needed from his trust fund. He only had a few more years of school left, and he'd barely touched what was in the vault.

But she insisted they needed the new wardrobe now. They had even made a small cloak for Hedwig to wear—he still didn't know how the hell Gabrielle had not only got a hold of his familiar, but kept the snowy owl calm enough to put the small little cape on.

Not like the owl's ego needed anymore inflating. Now she was sitting on the top of a shelf, preening, looking like a princess observing her kingdom.

"Now we need to finally go over the boxers," mumbled the shopkeeper.

Sometimes having an entirely new language stuffed into your head thanks to a spell was not a good thing. Of course, it also made him question the intelligence once again of the Ministry people. He recalled a certain scene during the World Cup where such a spell should have been used. Needless to say, he lowered his guess of the collective IQ of the Fudge Administration.

Well that ... and there was something very disturbing about a nine-year-old girl helping the shopkeeper with the choices of boxers he would be getting.

* * *

"We will all need to do our best, stress and resources we have available to us, any contacts we know of; but we must find Harry Potter before his kidnappers don't have any longer a use for him," said Dumbledore gravely. 

"Are we certain the egomaniacal twit didn't set this up?" grumbled Snape. It was bad enough he was going to have to probably tell the Dark Lord about this. But now it was likely some third group had arrived, and was going to cause even more trouble.

The glares he got reminded him all too well of his tenuous relationship with the rest of the Order.

"We'll find him, Molly," Arthur said, trying to comfort his wife. "Harry's a tough lad; he'll either escape or let us know where he is. Trust me; he'll be back here before the week's end!"

No one knew what had happened that day. It was a day that the brightest, the most powerful, the supposed best of the Light, as well as the undefeatable Harry Potter himself—a boy who had defeated the Dark again and again, were all defeated by a nine year old quarter Veela.

It would be a month before Fleur was inducted into the Order, and told them where Harry had been.

* * *

**Omake:** by Atlan 

"We will all need to do our best, stress and resources we have available to us, any contacts we know of; but we must find Harry Potter before his kidnappers lose their use for him," said Dumbledore gravely.

"Are we certain the egomaniacal twit didn't set this up?" grumbled Snape. It was bad enough he was going to have to probably tell the Dark Lord about this. But now it was likely some third group had arrived, and was going to cause even more trouble.

The glares he got reminded him all too well of his tenuous relationship among the Order. From all but Sirius, at least.

"You know, I can see him doing that," the Animagus mused. "Running away from those bloody muggles, and having a good old relaxing holiday."

Remus smirked. "But he couldn't use his own name on a holiday- everyone in the world knows who he is. He'd probably use your name."

Sirius chuckled. "My godson, Mr. Black; that does have a nice ring to it..."

Moody's upper lip twitched. "Spending his summer holidays traveling, finding rare and powerful magic, killing dozens of Death Eaters by accident."

Even Dumbledore got into the joke. "Then he'd come back, vanquish Voldemort in an anti-climatic battle, and live happily ever after."

There was a brief moment of silence, before the whole room burst out laughing, Sirius in particular. "Well, not for another year or so, I think. But seriously, where is he?"

Atlan's little tribute to Rorschach's Blot's **Make A Wish**.


	4. Interview by Luna Lovegood

**Harry Potter and the Interview by Luna Lovegood**

Disclaimer: I don't own this series or any other series. I am just floating an idea. I am making no money, nor plan to, off this venture. If you think of suing me over this, then grow up.

Please feel free to review, and make comments. If you find a spelling or wordage mistake, feel free to let me know. Thank you.

* * *

Much like any celebrity, Harry Potter was not a fan of the press. Being a wizard in the Tri-wizard Tournament made this especially true, a factor exaggerated by his infamous Boy-Who-Lived title. After his ... encounter with Rita Skeeter and her subsequent articles about him, he could well vouch for the yellow journalism that plagued the Wizarding World.

This was why he was very skeptical of the offer now before him. "You're offering me an honest interview, followed by an honest printing of my words, in the _Quibbler_?" he asked.

Luna Lovegood, third year Ravenclaw, just nodded her head. "Of course, Daddy says you should have your true story told before the Ministry is bribed to send their ninja house elves to assassinate you."

He could only blink at that, trying to put the image to say ... Dobby. Shaking his head and trying not to chuckle out loud at the image of a ninja-Dobby, he looked back towards the blond Ravenclaw. "Okay, but can I see what you plan to print beforehand?"

"Of course," she replied, as she pulled a large roll of parchment from her robes. "First, Father wanted us to start off with the rumors that have been circulating about you till this point." With that, she grabbed the opening of the scroll, and released the bottom.

Harry could only gape as the scroll continued to unwind until it hit the wall on the far side of the room ... twenty feet away, and was still not fully unrolled.

"Sadly, I was only able to bring this small amount with me," she said, shaking her head. "But Father assures me that the rest will be here by next Friday."

He could only nod, wondering what the hell people were really saying about him behind his back.

"Okay, the first rumor to address," Luna continued, ignoring the fact Harry was still in shock, as she opened an equally large blank scroll and began to write, "are you really Merlin reborn?"

"Uh ... I don't think I am," he said, slowly focusing back at her.

"Is this due to any rebirth procedure to remain young or soul transmigration spells?"

"No ... pretty sure I've always been me."

"No memories alterations to maintain the illusion?"

"... No," he said, now fully focused on Luna.

"Very well then," she said, switching to the rumor scroll and only crossing off one line. "Now are you really a creation of magic designed to save the magical world as needed?"

He could only gape in shock at that. "Um, as far as I know, I've been one hundred percent human my entire life and conceived the usual way. So could we perhaps skip the rumors that counter that?"

She seemed confused a bit, but nodded. "Okay, but please let me know if you find out differently. Father seems to believe you may be a phoenix transfigured into a human," she said, as she began to cross off lines on the parchment.

Three feet of parchment later, she resumed the session. "Do you have plans to conquer the Wizarding World as the next Dark Lord?"

"Of course not!" he yelled. What sort of things were people thinking?

"Grey Lord?"

"Grey Lord?" he asked in confusion.

"Do you plan to take over as a dark anti-hero figure that dispenses swift justice to those who either oppose you or irritate you, usually in the form of death or a painful spanking?"

"Um ... no, no Grey Lord." Though he would admit privately that the imagery was pretty nice.

"I see," she said, writing a bit more. "Do you have any plans to rule the Wizarding World at all?"

"Nah, I don't think I'm cut out for politics."

"Why?"

"Too honest," he said with a smile.

"I see, yes, that would be a very strong disadvantage to entering politics," she said, writing some more.

"Um ... yeah," he said nervously. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all.

"What of the rumors of you dating Hermione Granger?"

"We never dated."

"So it is just a friendship with benefits then?"

"Benefits?"

"All the benefits of a relationship without the actual dating, such as making out when you feel the desire and sexual relations."

"NO!" he yelled out quickly.

"Is she not your type?"

"Yes, I mean no, I mean..." he paused, taking a deep breath. "We are just friends, neither one of us wants more than that."

"Could that change later?"

Harry could only blink. "Um ... I doubt it; I think she's dating someone else."

"But if she was to stop dating Viktor Krum and looses interest in Ronald Weasley?"

"Um ... we see when it all happens," he said with uncertainty.

"Okay then, are you currently dating any other girls?"

"No."

"Men?"

"NO!" Harry said quickly.

"Any sentient magical creature or semi-sentient, including ghosts, trolls, Crumple Horned Snorkacks, purebloods, dementors, or plants?"

Harry could honestly say he was very confused at this point. "My main preference at the moment is for human females."

"So you would prefer a polygamous relationship?"

"How did you get that from my response?" asked Harry.

Luna looked up. "You said you preferred human females, not a human female."

"But … wouldn't that insinuate that I preferred a certain female instead of the gender at large?" he asked.

"Perhaps," she said, as she went back to questioning Harry. "Are you a member of any secret organizations who plan to rule the world?"

* * *

"She asked you that?" said Hermione, eyes wide.

Harry just nodded, rubbing his head, feeling more tired than he had ever felt before. "I think the weirdest one was asking if I believed Dumbledore was setting me up to die for the greater good."

"Now that's plain crazy," said Ron, scooping some more food on his plate.

"Actually," said Harry, "she presented a good case for her argument behind it—if you don't count tying it into the Kennedy Assassination."

"That's Looney for you," said Ron. He paused taking a bite out of his chicken leg to look over towards Hermione. "Who's this Kennedy guy?"

"So when is this article being printed?" asked Hermione, ignoring Ron for the moment.

"She's putting the first bit together right now," said Harry. "Apparently, this and other interviews will be special editions for _The Quibbler_ on daily releases."

"Cheer up, mate; maybe this'll help you get Skeeter off your ass," said Ron, before he started tearing into his meal.

"Such a dreadful woman," growled Hermione, one who took any abuse of the truth as a crime. "I need to research how Muggle libel laws apply to Wizarding society. Maybe you could sue her."

As much as he hated what would be more attention and the fact he had no need for the money, a small part of him began wishing with all its might that Hermione might find something that would allow him to do it. If he won, he'd probably give the money to the twins. Hell, he'd probably take the paper and give it to them as well. _I wonder what the news would be like with those two in charge._

"Hello, Harry."

Blinking out of his daydream, he turned, spotting the blond Ravenclaw behind him. "Hello Luna, finished already?"

"Oh yes," she said, fingering her butterbeer cork necklace. "I just need you to go over the final draft before I send it to Daddy."

Harry sighed with relief.

"And then if we could do so without the nargles causing trouble, we could start on the second set of questions," she said, holding up another large parchment.

Even Ron stopped eating at the site. "Bloody hell…"

"Just how many rumors are there about Harry?" asked Hermione, eyes wide.

"Daddy's last count was around 26,736," responded Luna with a smile. "Of course, I discovered 139 since the Second Task and the Yule Ball," she finished.

"And how many of those are on that parchment?" asked Harry, his voice slightly cracking in fear.

"All of them," she said, ignoring his paling face. "Daddy thought it best to answer some of these rumors quickly, in hopes of staving off new rumors; otherwise we'd never be able to end the series.

"Harry, are you okay, you look like you've been attacked by vampiric sworth beetles?"

* * *

Harry was rubbing his temples again. It was once more a stressful interview, but he did learn a few things.

One, Veela had communities. Of course, as far as he knew, he wasn't to be abducted by one thanks to his rescue of the youngest Delacour. Not that he would mind, but he had learned a long time ago not to have such dreams. Besides, he could already see Ron jealous over that happening to him too.

Two, many people assumed he was feeling out the other two schools to perhaps transfer, often due to a certain greasy Potions Master or the yearly 'try and kill Harry' tradition that seemed to follow him every year. Granted, this one was close to being true thanks to the seed of doubt Luna had unknowingly planted early by questioning Dumbledore's motives and actions towards him.

And third…

"No Luna," said Harry with a sigh. "I am not in negotiations to add both Patil sisters to a harem of my own. I don't even have, want, or plan to build a harem either."

And third, everyone thought he was working on a harem. Really, where did they get these ideas?

"Okay then," said Luna, as she marked another answered rumor off her parchment.

Harry wanted to sigh in relief. The parchment was nearly finished, less than a foot remained of the ridiculous and usually outlandish rumors that had sprung up around him. If he was lucky, the remaining things would be minor lies he could answer in one-word replies.

"Is it true that your father's family has left you with several dozen marriage contracts?"

He felt like cussing at that point. It just wasn't fair!

* * *

"That's a lot of documents, Harry," commented Ginny, as she returned to the Common Room in the dorms.

Harry just nodded, going over every single legal file Gringott's and the Ministry had on his family. For all that was magical, he was hoping to find not one 'rumored' contract Luna had discussed yesterday.

"Mate," said Ron, coming down from the dorms, "did you apologize to Padma and Parvati?"

Harry nodded.

"But they ditched us!" whined Ron.

Ginny glared at her brother before she cast a Silencing Spell on him. She wasn't in the mood to listen to that particular discussion again. Really, what did the prat think happened on a date? "Find anything good?" she asked, turning once again to Harry, trying to make conversation.

Harry nodded. "I may have some places to go aside from the Dursleys," he said. "And thankfully, not one engagement contract of any type," he said with a near mad smile.

"Okay," Ginny replied a bit confused. "What about life debts?" she asked.

"Huh?"

"Well, some families used to ask for marriage contracts from life debts," she replied with a smile.

"Harry, why are you pounding your head on the table?" she asked, ignoring Ron's attempt to get her to remove the Silence Charm off of him.

* * *

"Luna, I might need a break," said Harry.

"Oh?" she asked, hand holding another scroll.

He nodded sadly. "I don't want to be rude, but all of these rumors are killing me," he said, nearly breaking down and crying. "I mean, I've become so damned paranoid, I stunned Moody in class today! All he asked me was why I wasn't looking at the book!"

Luna nodded. "Dealing with public opinion can be quite maddening at times. I remember a rather nasty discussion Daddy had with one reader who was most upset when he revealed the existence of red-toothed herbinhors."

Harry just nodded, not really paying any attention. "So can we hold off on answering the next set of rumors for a few days, just till I get my nerves under control?"

"Of course," she said, putting the parchment back.

"Thanks Luna," said Harry with a relieved smile. "You're a real friend," he said happily, as he walked away.

Luna blinked for a few minutes. "Well now I feel bad for making up most of those rumors."


	5. Harry Potter and the Clone War

**Harry Potter and the Clone War**

Disclaimer: I don't own this series or any other series. I am just floating an idea. I am making no money, nor plan to, off this venture. If you think of suing me over this, then grow up.

I would like to first personally thank all of those reviewing my stories. I enjoy reading your comments, and try to correct the grammatical errors I miss with my final read-through as well as my spell checkers. The suggestions you all make will help make this story better for everyone to enjoy, as well as allow my to fix some plot holes I may unintentionally leave. If you find any, let me know, and I will correct them and repost the chapters.

* * *

Harry just stumbled into the Great Hall, a smile seemingly carved onto his face, even though it held underlying confusion, as he made his way to his friends. He had no clue what was happening now, but he figured he would just enjoy it until it blew up in his face once more.

"Harry, are you okay?" asked Hermione, seeing her friend sit down beside her.

"I'm not quite certain," he said, shaking his head. "Did I do anything last night?" he asked.

"Mate, we just studied, you and Hermione did a lesson plan, that's about it," Ron said, reaching for some more chicken. "Why?"

"Because several girls snogged me senseless on my way here thanking me for what I did last night," he said, much to the shock of the others.

"What?" growled Ron, trying hard to suppress his jealousy.

"Who?" asked Hermione, not even trying to suppress her curiosity.

"Um … a few DA members and I think one or two Slytherin girls," Harry said, trying to recall names to go with the faces that had given him many moments of pleasure on his way to dinner. The fact that Cho had not been among them hadn't even entered his mind at the moment.

"Slytherin," growled Ron once more, turning to glare at their table.

"Oh really Ron," huffed Hermione, "they're human too. And please recall that Voldemort didn't just have one house helping him."

The dig at his former pet calmed the boy down.

"Excuse me?"

The trio looked up, spotting the odd Ravenclaw girl standing before them.

"Yeah, Luna," said Harry, still fighting to remove that smile from his face.

"Did you say that you were apparently thanked for doing stuff you do not recall doing?" she asked, her tone more serious than usual.

"Well … yeah," said Harry.

"Oh dear," said Luna, "it looks like a few got out again," she mused. "I'll have to change the safeguards once more. Then again, they can't help but be clever."

"Um Luna," said Hermione, "what are you talking about?"

"Oh, an idea I made true," smiled the blond. "I knew Harry needed help, so I borrowed an idea from a Muggle movie I saw."

Hermione paled. She knew that no good could come from this.

"What's a movie?" asked Ginny, sitting beside the group.

"A Muggle form of entertainment that is similar to a play," replied Luna. "But I suppose I should fill you in now before things go too far."

"Too far?" asked Ron.

Nodding, Luna motioned for them to follow her. "Harry," she asked, seeing the smiling Boy-Who-Lived, "are you feeling okay?"

"Never better," he said, as he followed her. Nothing could bring him down at the moment.

"Oh good," said Luna, "I was worried you contracted marigold weaver sickness."

Harry just shook his head. "Had a good day, always wondered what they were like."

* * *

"Luna?"

"Yes Hermione?"

"This is the entrance to the Room of Requirements," said Hermione.

"Of course it is," said Luna. "It is also the entrance to my … lab," she said, as lightning flashed through the corridors.

"Your lab?" asked Ron.

"No, my … lab," she said, as lightning flashed once again.

"Stop that Luna," said Ginny.

"Awww."

"Can we get on with this?" asked Hermione, rubbing her forehead. She just knew this was going to give her a headache.

"Very well," she said, as she walked in front of the entrance three times, causing the door she needed to form. "Welcome to … my lab." Once again, lightning flashed.

"How's she do that?" asked Ron, looking around.

"This way," motioned Luna, as she opened the door, revealing a small room.

"Not much of a lab," muttered Ginny.

"Oh, this is just the Balance Room," said Luna, as she ushered everyone inside and closed the door.

"Balance Room?" asked Hermione.

"Well, time moves much faster in my … workspace," she said, replacing the last word in her reply when she noticed sadly that there were no windows for any lightning to flash in front of, thus ruining the effect. "As such, this one speeds us up and slows us down when we're coming and going."

"The room can do that?" asked Harry. If they could speed up time, then he could teach more, and create less of a chance for Umbridge to find them.

Luna nodded.

"And why do you need time to go faster in your lab?" asked Hermione.

"Well, I needed the time to get the clones to grow up first," said Luna as if it was obvious. "After all, we can't have a bunch of little babies fight the Dark Lord, now can we Hermione."

Everyone blinked, as a chime went through the room, and the door on the opposite end of the room formed and opened.

"May I introduce my clone army!" cried Luna excitedly … followed by an insane laugh as she motioned towards the new room. "BWA HAHAHAHA!"

"Stop that Luna," said Ginny, far more used to her friends eccentrics.

"Awww."

* * *

The group exited the Balance Room, viewing a scene that shocked many of them.

Well not Luna, she always saw this. It just excited her a bit to see some many sweaty shirtless clones doing battle.

Not Harry either. Sure, what he saw shocked him a bit, but he was still recalling the tongues that had invaded his mouth not even an hour ago.

Before them was a room much larger than even the great hall, filled with battling teenagers, throwing powerful spells around with great ease, battling as if they were professionals.

"Are those…?" started Hermione, unable to form words at the images before her.

Luna just nodded. "I've created over one hundred clones of Harry Potter!" she cried, cackling loudly. "BWA HAHAHAHAHA!"

**WHAP!**

"Owie," cried Luna, as she glared at Ginny.

"Luna," the redhead said calmly, "why are there a bunch of Harry Potter clones in front of us?"

"Because they're practicing," said Luna. "Why else would they be in the practice arena? I can't exactly have them tossing high level spells in the spawning facility, now can I?"

"She means why are there clones of Harry?" asked Hermione, feeling the predicted headache strike.

"Well he's the only one I could successfully clone," said Luna. "I suspect it might be because of his half-blood status. The Muggle-born clones and the pureblood clones didn't work out too well."

Hermione blinked at that. "Luna, who else did you try to clone?"

* * *

At the Granger home, the patriarch was watching television, enjoying a day off from his job, relaxing as his wife had gone off to visit her parents … or was it her sister.

"I probably should have been paying attention," he mused, as he flipped through the channels, coming to rest on a commercial for a new video.

"Girls Gone Wild?" he asked, watching the screen.

He blinked. Those triplets flashing the camera looked very much like his daughter.

* * *

Four Ron clones stared in awe at the blinking light.

"How's a blinking light supposed to hurt someone?" asked one of the clones.

"Don't know," said another. "But kind of wicked looking."

Dobby sighed as he pushed a button and dropped the blast shield. As a small explosion was heard, Dobby signaled for a cleanup crew. Muggle explosives were always so messy. "Weasley clones not very bright, Dobby wonders what is missing?"

He paused at looking at the sheet before him. "Is something missing, Dobby wonders. Weasley friend of the Great Harry Potter isn't very bright."

* * *

"Just a few other useful individuals," she admitted. "There were certain emotional issues I couldn't resolve, so I had to discontinue their development," said Luna politely. "But they are being useful," she offered.

"Useful how?" asked Hermione.

* * *

"Are you sure they can help?" asked Luna.

"Oh I'm certain," said Padma, smirking at what was before her. "It'll help us ensure we know what these new spells and weapons we're making can do."

"Oh, okay then," said Luna, as she turned around, preparing to skip out of the room. "Have fun."

"Oh, I will," said the Ravenclaw twin, as her lips turned into a cruel smile. Somehow, she was going to put this off as a therapeutic session, and not what it might appear to be.

Motioning for one of the Rons to step into the room, she prepared to cast the spell. After all, you never truly knew what a spell would do until you tried it out on someone. Plus, they had those cloned house elves to clean up after her.

Dismantling clones was so messy, but she had to do it … for research, not for revenge. It wasn't like she was still upset over how Ron Weasley had treated her during the Yule Ball.

* * *

Luna just nodded. "Now I know you all are feeling a bit depressed," she said. "Though I wonder if Harry is just made to be depressed," she wondered.

"Anyway, I wanted to offer you an incentive to not be emo and to practice harder."

"And that is?" asked Emo—er, Harry-12.

Luna waved her hand, as a door opened, allowing the scantily dressed Hermione clones to enter.

"Dude, girls!"

"Dude, boys!"

Luna just smiled as they all seemed so happy … and very naked. "Hmm, I should go find the original Harry," she murmured as she turned around and left.

* * *

"They are doing what they can to help the war effort," said Luna. Though it was obvious that she needed to make more female clones if the Harry clones were leaving the facility to find new women. _Maybe I need to make some clones of the other girls; but who are the half-bloods again? We don't need more flighty dumb clones._

_Then again, it is just for sex, so maybe it'll be okay._

"And where did they get their wands?" asked Ginny.

Hermione walked over to one of the resting Harrys, and looked over the wand. After checking several, she turned towards Luna once again. "Luna, you cloned his wand?"

"Of course not," said Luna. "Cloning a wand is pure fantasy and it simply can't be done. That would be like asking you not to study or a Crumpled-horned Snorkack not to dance during mating season."

"Then where did you get exact copies of Harry's wand?" asked Hermione.

Harry blinked at that, as he borrowed one of the wands and tried it out, producing a corporeal Patronis.

"Oh, I had them specially made."

"Made by who?" asked Harry.

"I pulled in a favor and got Ollivander to make them for us," said Luna with her smile. "He usually doesn't do much work during the school year, so he was happy to help."

* * *

Said wand maker looked up from his table, glaring at a red phoenix sitting across from him. "I don't know why you're angry. I have to do all the work; you just need to drop tail feathers."

Fawkes glared at him, wishing he could leave. But that woman just seemed to know the right spots to pet him. Besides, it wasn't like he could run out of feathers … right?

Ollivander just sighed. If only he could get those photos away from the girl. "Damn her and damn me for doing such things to get blackmailed with in the first place."

"I'm never vacationing in America ever again," he grumbled. "'Stays in Vegas' my ass."

* * *

"You did all of this?" asked Ginny in awe.

"Well no," said Luna. "I had help from a few Ravenclaws that aren't mean to me," she said. "Plus, we had help from a few of the house elves to pull this off. Why one was even so helpful that we cloned him as well. He insisted on it in fact, to help all of the Harrys."

Snape's glare didn't remove that smile, Umbridge's sneer didn't remove it, and neither did Malfoy's usual antics.

But this statement from Luna removed it. "Uh-oh," he whispered, afraid of what was to come next.

"Calling all Dobbys!" yelled Luna.

There was a loud pop as many very familiar looking house elves arrived on the scene. Not noticed by most, many of the cloned Harry Potters quickly made an exit, leaving the original standing in front of the Dobby clones.

"Oh sweet Merlin," Harry gasped out, feeling pale.

"The Great Wizard Harry Potter comes to see Dobby!" they cried in unison before tackling their perceived hero.

"Strangely, house elf clones end up as exact duplicates of the original, even down to the memories," said Luna with a smile. "I hope to have similar results with cloning Blibbering Humdingers. They are rare as it is."

* * *

"Okay Luna, explain this one more time," said the slightly tense Harry Potter—the original, not one of the clones.

"Well, you needed help and at a level to match you," said Luna. "While the DA is improving, you'll need more help than what we can offer. Plus you have this nasty habit of wanting to face death and danger by yourself. You know, it's not a friendly thing to do to refuse to let your friends risk their lives with you."

"She's got a point there," said Hermione, trying to ignore some of the stares she was receiving from the Harry clones. "You do tend to try and carry the weight of the world by yourself."

"But he's after me," said Harry.

"Right," snorted Ginny. "Like when he's finished with you, he'll ignore the rest of us and go off to die in a desert."

"Safety in numbers mate," said Ron.

"Anyway," interrupted Luna, not wanting to see the original Harry go emo—though she wondered if what made the clones all normal might also snap him out of his perpetual funk, "I thought of a movie I saw. I think it was called Bio-dome."

"I think you mean Star Wars, Attack of the Clones," said Hermione.

"No, I'm pretty sure it was Bio-dome."

"And?" asked Harry, very nervous being surrounded by trained clones of himself and the excited stares of dozens of Dobby clones.

"Well, I thought since Voldemort had an army, and the Ministry has an army—including the ninja house elves—"

"Dobby is like gas, silent but deadly," said the original elf, as the others magically produced small swords.

"Oh my God," muttered Hermione, trying not to moan at the small word play Dobby had unwittingly made.

"I figured it was only fitting that Harry have an army as well."

"But what about the DA?" asked Ron.

"They are the leaders, the clones are the troops," replied Luna.

"So I can command a small group of Harry Potters?" asked Ginny, a small smile forming on her lips.

Ron just smiled. "Can I make a Quidditch team from mine?"

"WHAT?" yelled Harry.

* * *

As this was going on, an interesting scene was taking place inside the Headmaster's Office.

"I demand he be expelled!" yelled Snape, glaring at the son of his hated foe.

"I find it hard to believe, Severus," said Dumbledore. "How could Mr. Potter assault you and Madam Umbridge while he has been chatting with me as well as Professors Sinestra and McGonagall for the last half hour discussing future career plans?"

The Harry clone tilted his head, smiling. He was glad that he had gotten the fake scar on his head; otherwise they would claim he was a polyjuice impersonator. "I do believe I might be being framed," said Harry-81. "After all, I can't be in three places at once, can I?"

Snape could only growl.

"I will discover how you pulled this off, Mr. Potter," said Umbridge, sneering at the boy again.

Harry just tilted his head again. "I'm afraid I haven't done anything for you to discover, Ma'am," said Harry, before a smile formed on his face. "Though I would be surprised at what you might discover. I would hate to be blamed for something I didn't do … once again."

He just ignored the glares from the targets that had been labeled 'Greasy-Git-1' and 'Frog-Bitch'. They would be dealt with soon enough.

* * *

Harry just sighed as he arrived at the Ministry with the other DA members. "I don't get it," said Harry. "We know Sirius is not caught, there is no reason to be here. Why'd we come?"

Luna just smiled as she waved her wand at the multiple Floos in the entrance. "Because it is always fun to surprise the enemy by springing their trap with one of your own."

"Besides," said Ron, "if we didn't do this, you'd slip out and try to do it by yourself … again."

"You do have a nasty habit of running off to face danger on your own, Harry," admonished Ginny.

"Was it really necessary to bring the entire DA though?" asked the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Ickle Harrykins running off foolishly…"

"And not wanting to bring us along?" asked the familiar Weasley Twins.

"I know brother-dear, and after all we did for him."

"Too true, why the sacrifices we make for our friends."

"So what now?" asked Cho, looking around the empty Ministry.

"You think there was an alarm or something we need to know about?" asked Colin.

"I'm sure the nargles just started mating and their calls frightened the staff," said Luna, as she pulled out a special DA coin and activated.

"What's Luna doing?" asked Parvati.

"Calling for assistance," said Luna, as the Floo System flared to live, and the clones of war entered.

"…"

Harry sighed. "I hope this works."

* * *

"I can't believe that worked," Harry said in awe, looking at the unconscious, dead, or heavily maimed Death Eaters.

"I told you it would," said Luna with a bright smile as she looked at the babbling Minister, still in shock not just at the Harry Potter Army, but that Voldemort really was back.

"Harry, may I speak to you?"

The duo turned to spot the arrival of the Headmaster, looking both worried for his students, upset that they broke the rules, and confused at the sight of so many Harry Potters interrogating the captured Death Eaters.

"You know," said Harry-56, "the Aurors really need to lock their Potions Closet."

"Yeah, but we got so many nice toys," said Harry-34, holding several Time Turners.

"He really is back," mumbled Fudge.

Harry just shrugged as he looked at Luna. "Need me for anything else?" he asked, surprised at how different the battle had felt. He was actually … somewhat relieved there had been no deaths.

Luna had yet to tell him about several Suicide Rons that had been lost attacking Voldemort. "No, but I will need to meet with you later on tonight. I have another project I need to try out. I really believe it will help you."

Harry just smiled, thus missing the highly perverted smile forming on Luna's face. It was nice to have people helping him in the open and not force him into it. "Okay then."

"EEEP!"

The group turned to watch Hermione slap one of the Harry clones.

"I wonder what that was about?" asked Harry, as Luna rushed towards the group.

"Um, yes, about these other … yous," Dumbledore said uncomfortably.

"What about them?" asked Harry. "You did say we needed every bit of help against Voldemort."

"Well yes…"

"And they are battle-trained, unlike many of the current Auror force.

"Kid's got a point," said Moody as he walked up. "Potter, ask Lovegood if her program can work for the new recruits; I'd like to have one damned raid where a newbie didn't yell out their arrival."

"Sure!"

Dumbledore sighed; this was definitely not going to plan. "What about the Prophecy, Harry? What happened to it?"

Harry could only blink at that. "I think I gave it to Ron."

"Gave me what, mate?" asked Ron, trying to back away from Padma Patil. That look she was giving him creeped him out.

"The Prophecy Orb," said Harry.

"It wasn't me, mate."

A quick scan of the redhead's mind confirmed that he hadn't had the Prophecy, leaving the aged Headmaster confused as to who had it now.

* * *

"Wow," said one of the escaped Ron clones, allowed free because one of the Harry clones had not shut the door correctly.

"It's all shiny and stuff," said the other, as the small group stared at the pilfered prophecy orbs.

"I hate this one," said another Ron. "It keeps talking about some guy named Bush."


	6. Guild of Calamitous Intent

**Harry Potter and the Guild of Calamitous Intent**

Disclaimer: I don't own this series or any other series. I am just floating an idea. I am making no money, nor plan to, off this venture. If you think of suing me over this, then grow up.

I would like to first personally thank all of those reviewing my stories. I enjoy reading your comments, and try to correct the grammatical errors I miss with my final read-through as well as my spell checkers. The suggestions you all make will help make this story better for everyone to enjoy, as well as allow my to fix some plot holes I may unintentionally leave. If you find any, let me know, and I will correct them and repost the chapters.

* * *

It was a perfectly normal day on Privet Drive. After all, in a perfectly normal neighborhood filled with perfectly normal houses, each with a perfectly normal family.

And into this perfectly normal setting … came a perfectly normal giant floating cocoon.

Wait, cocoon?

Yes, a giant cocoon was floating down the street, sending the perfectly normal people to scurry into their perfectly normal homes and call the perfectly normal police. This was followed by them quickly closing their perfectly normal curtains, turning on their perfectly normal televisions, and watching a perfectly normal movie with the volume turned up as loud as comfortable.

After all, what could perfectly normal people do in such a situation?

* * *

Soon, the Cocoon came to rest at Number Four, its apparent destination. This was followed by a ramp lowering from the bottom side of the Cocoon.

"Minions!" yelled the man who seemed to be the only differently dressed one among them. "Surround the house, let none escape without my say-so! Blood shall run into the gutters this day!" yelled the man dressed like some sort of Butterfly.

"Monarch!" came the deep baritone voice of a woman as she walked out from behind him, dressed in a pink pillbox hat and a pink Oleg Cassini suit. "We are not going to murder your family. We're here to meet them."

"But Pookie," he said.

"You're the one who wanted an heir in case something—God forbid—happens to you, to run your evil empire. Now get in there and see if your nephew is up to the task."

"Then we can kill them?" he asked.

"We'll see," she said with a smile, mentally sighing that at least he was able to be calmed a bit easier than her Moppets.

Nodding, the Monarch marched up to the door, knocking loudly. After a moment, he began to growl. "Vernon! Open the door or I'll blast it open and geld you for the hell of it! You know I'll do it too!"

And with that, a train of thunderous steps were heard, ending with the door opening, a walrus-like man's head slowly peeking out. "Er … Malcolm, how nice to see you … brother."

"Vernon," smirked the Monarch. "I see you've gotten … bigger. I believe we have the terms of your loan to talk about."

"W-w-w-why me?" he squeaked, becoming deathly pale.

"What? You think someone was desperate enough to fuck our sister and give her a kid?" Monarch asked in a huff, checking his nails—an oddity since he was wearing gloves at the time. "You know why I'm here. Now show me your boy."

* * *

The atmosphere inside Number Four was tense as the people began to stare at one another. Vernon sat nervously on the couch with his wife, awaiting the return of his son from school. He berated himself for not having spent his inheritance wisely, instead of counting on receiving his lost brother's share when the fool was declared dead, just like his 'loving' parents.

_This is what I get for listening to that mongrel-obsessed bitch Marge!_

"So Vernon, have you told your … er … wife? … about the terms of your loan from me?" he asked, trying not to focus too much on Petunia. Oh sure, some people gave his girlfriend a second glance because of her voice. But seriously, who had spent the better part of a decade smacking that woman with every tree you could make an Ugly Stick from?

"Loan?" squeaked Petunia. "What are you freaks talking about?"

"Careful, honey," said Doctor Girlfriend, checking her makeup. "At least we don't resemble escaped zoo animals."

**CRASH!**

"Sorry," said an unknown henchman, having dropped a plate he had gathered some sandwiches on.

"My good china!" shrieked Petunia.

Sighing, the Monarch flicked his wrist, sending a poisoned dart into the neck of the unknown henchmen. "You two!" he bellowed, pointing to a duo of a thinner tall henchmen and a shorter portly one. "Take the body and dispose of it in the Caterpillar Pit, where it shall be devoured by their flesh eating jaws!"

"Um … we can't do that," said the portly henchmen Number 21. "They already turned into butterflies and left weeks ago."

"Yeah," said the taller man, Number 24, "we told you this at yesterday's meeting."

"What?" asked the shocked supervillian. "But like, I've put all that work into them! What about their larvae? Surely they will feast on his bones, rending his flesh from his bones!"

"No way," said 24. "You only stored the males in there! There weren't any eggs!"

"Oh come on!" sighed the Monarch, rubbing his brow. "What the hell am I supposed to do with a Pit of Doom that doesn't have anything in it?"

"Can we turn it into a swimming pool?" asked 21.

"What are you talking about?" said 24. "You know you can't swim!"

"I can too!"

"Silence!" yelled Monarch as he stood up. "Fine; just … toss him in the garbage or something."

Sitting back down, he turned to face the Dursleys. "Sorry about that, minions are so hard to train, and I wasn't able to get first pick because of Limb…

"Anyway, we were talking about the loan."

"What loan?" asked Petunia quietly, somewhat in shock at seeing a man killed before her. Sure, the man was a freak—what sort of man dresses up like a fruity butterfly anyway—but it was still a shocker.

"N-nothing you need to worry about, Pet," said Vernon.

"Oh, my brother didn't tell you he murdered our parents and tried to kill me as well?"

"WHAT?" yelled Petunia.

"I didn't do anything!" yelled Vernon. "How was I to know that plane would crash like that?" It was true, they had been shooting for the Atlantic, but the damned plane worked all the way to the blasted Yanks.

"Anyway," said the Monarch as he and Doctor Girlfriend received their drinks from the henchmen, "the family fortune was divided, mine was put into a frozen account until I returned, which I did a few years later after learning the ways of the dangerous Monarch butterflies. Unlike the tubby twosome, I didn't squander my share on fast cars, loose women, alcoholic binge parties, and transsexual hookers."

"I DID NO SUCH THING!" bellowed Vernon. "AND NO ONE EVER CAME FORWARD AND SAID THAT WAS MARGE IN THOSE VIDEOS!"

"Please," snorted Girlfriend. "I've seen the video on YouTube, they didn't exactly stop when they found out, and I think I can tell the difference between a man and a woman."

Monarch narrowed his eyes. Well, that could have been Marge… But he'd rather not have that horrifying image in his head. Perhaps he could use it to torture Venture though… Yes, that would be perfect! He'd have that video blown up into stills and post them all over the Venture Compound. Oh yes, Rusty was going to have a surprise when he woke up!

"How dare you…" growled Vernon, preparing to hit her.

"That's a no-no," said Monarch, as he aimed his wrist mounted dart gauntlet at the quickly paling Vernon. "Never interrupt my stories.

"Anyway, after Dumber and Dimwit emptied their trust funds, they came to me to try and borrow some money to survive. Apparently the two had a few outstanding … debts, and Vernon here needed a house for … you I guess.

"Anyway, I got my fat sister a dog kennel she always wanted to work on—not insinuating anything here, but she's always been partial to dogs, just saying. And I got this loser the house you're currently living in so he could look good for some boring ass job. I mean seriously, who dreams of working for a drill company. What drills do they make? What the hell do you do there anyway?"

Vernon just sputtered for a second, trying to think of something, anything he could do that wouldn't end with him with a dart in his neck like the freak … that was being stuffed in his trash can outside the window before him. Oh the neighbors were going to have a field day with this one.

"And the payment for this … loan?" Petunia asked, glaring at her husband, her supposingly normal and virginal husband when they married. Sure, she had always carried some suspicions about Marge. But when you looked at them, the siblings did sort of look alike.

"They had to give me their first born to raise as my heir until I have my own little larvae! Of course," he said quickly, looking at the narrowed eyes of Doctor Girlfriend, "that was before I met this version of succulent heaven before me."

"There had better be a ring on my finger soon, that's all I'm saying."

"There will be soon, Pookie," he said, before standing once again. "It will be the day I finish off Venture, making him suffer the most humiliating defeat, as he acknowledges me, his arch nemesis, as the better man!"

"You can't have my Dudders!" yelled Petunia.

"What the hell is a Dudders?" asked the Monarch.

The answer came as the front door slammed open, admitting a severely obese child as he dragged a waif-thin child behind him in a headlock. "Guess what the teachers think I did because of the Freak?" he asked. Had Dudley been more observant instead of focused on his glee at convincing his parents that it was somehow Harry's fault the teacher believed Dudley had swore—despite the fact Dudley had called the teacher said-word to her face for giving him an F and holding him inside during recess—he might have noticed a floating cocoon, the legion of henchmen, or that his parents were being held hostage.

But then no one ever said Dudley was observant.

The Monarch just sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose at the sight. "Please tell me your son isn't the fat one."

"HEY!" yelled Dudley, shoving Harry into the wall as he glared at the man. "You can't call me fat! I'm husky! Mommy!"

"Be quiet, Dudders," said Petunia, her voice slightly frantic.

"But Mommy, he called me fat!"

"This is Dudders?" asked Monarch, as he pinched his nose bridge. "Well this just keeps getting better and better." At the moment, he was willing to just burn the place down. Even Limb wouldn't begrudge him that. "And who is the other brat?"

"Pet's nephew," spat Vernon. Then the man paused. Perhaps they could pawn off the freak onto Vernon's brother. "Take him!"

Sighing, Monarch stood up, looking over the kid that had yet to stand back up from where he had landed. "I don't know; looks kind of sickly. He's not dying or anything is he? I don't need those Make-A-Wish assholes showing up on my doorstep again."

"Nothing wrong with him," said Vernon. "He's a hard worker, don't need much food, and never complains!" he said, putting aside his hatred for the last Potter in hopes of selling him off to his brother. It was a win-win situation: Malcolm got his heir; Vernon paid off his loan for the house and ditched the freak. Let the freak's freaky people deal with Malcolm. Who knew, they might even finally kill his brother.

"I see," said Monarch as he looked over the boy. Definitely starved, over worked, all good signs for an emerging supervillian. But it was better to be safe, the fat blob might have a brain in his head, and they could always put him on a diet … with a shock collar. "BRING IN THE HAT TESTS! WE SHALL TEST THEM BOTH!

"You both will take the test and NO CHEATING!" Monarch proclaimed, looking at the two boys as he turned back to his seat.

"Why do I have to take a test?" whined Dudley.

Harry stayed quiet. Sure, he may not have liked his relatives too much, but that didn't mean he wanted to see them killed.

"If you take the test and pass it to my satisfaction, I shall allow you and these fools you call guardians to live!

"So kind of you," grumbled Vernon.

"Fail, then you all shall experience the full wrath of the Monarch!" Monarch continued, ignoring Vernon's comment. "My minions shall descend upon you and this household like the mighty butterflies, feasting upon your entrails, much like the unfortunate forest animals during the mating season!"

"But I don't wanna take a test!" whined Dudley.

"Now Dudders, take the test and Daddy will by you that new game you wanted," pleaded Vernon, wanting to live to see tomorrow.

"I want two games," demanded Dudley with a smirk.

Monarch's eyebrow went up at seeing the negotiations between obese father and obese son. Oh, the kid was evil, but was he heir-evil, or telemarketer-evil?

"And while you're doing that," said Girlfriend, putting out a cigarette she had finished smoking; she stood up, glaring at Petunia, "I'll have a nice little … civil chat with your sister-in-law. Kevin, Tim-Tom, help me get her up the stairs so we can … chat."

"Right, Mum," said Kevin, as he opened a butterfly knife.

The manic looks on the faces of the two Moppets made the Dursley female dart up the stairs as quickly as she could, wishing that she had put a lock on her own bedroom door instead of Dudley's so he could have his privacy.

"We'll be back, Sweetie?" Girlfriend said, as she pointed her weapon at Petunia. "Girl talk and all; just want to find out a little information on young Harry."

"Eh," waved off Monarch from his seat as he stared at the two boys filling out the HAT (Henchman Aptitude Test). "Have fun dear," he said quickly, as his mind reminded him not to idly dismiss his lover. He didn't want to sleep on the cocoon-shaped couch tonight.

Smiling that he was finally acting like she had spent so much time training him to act, she motioned for Petunia to head up the stairs, the Moppets following her. "Now dear, time for some girl talk about Harry's parents."

* * *

"Got everything, Pookie?" asked the Monarch as Dr. Girlfriend and her Moppets. A heavily bandaged female followed behind them, feeling around the wall.

"Everything I wanted to know," Dr. Girlfriend said with a smile as she closed her purse.

"What did you do to my wife?" yelled Vernon, worried about how badly his love had been damaged by that baritoned-voice freak.

"I covered her up," spat Girlfriend. "God, the sight of her was making me sick. I mean, would a little makeup have killed her?" She left unsaid that she didn't think there was enough makeup in the world to make that woman presentable.

Everyone ignored the fact the Moppets were sad. They hadn't got to cut one person all day.

"Can we at least shank the fat one, Mum?" asked Kevin.

"Only if the two fail the exams," waved off Monarch, as he watched the two. He'd damn near had to dart Dudley to keep him from cheating on the test. Sure, it was okay to do that during a Guild-administered exam. But damn it, he wanted the smart one for an heir. "TIME!" he yelled, as his henchmen gathered the HATs from the two.

Dudley glared at them before he turned to face his Uncle. "I want candy now!" he bellowed. "Get me my games! You promised!"

"One more word from you and I'll sick Dr. Girlfriend's Moppets on you," Monarch said in an even tone.

"Oh, the fat ones are the most fun to stick!" purred Tim-Tom, fingering his blade. The act alone made Dudley pale as scoot backwards away from the duo of murderous Moppets, trying to shove Harry in front of him.

Monarch chose to ignore it as he watched his girlfriend feed the sheets into the computer, giving them the answers of who was the better heir. God help Vernon if they both failed—he had trouble imagining anything good coming from a family that had a daughter that ugly.

"Dudley's score is … -283," Girlfriend replied with a sigh.

"And that means…?" asked Vernon, trying to have a ray of hope.

"That your son has the IQ of a dead fish," said Monarch, raising his gauntlet to dart the kid. "A negative score farther from zero means he has less and less aptitude for a henchman."

"B-b-but the boy!" yelled Vernon, trying to save his family. God, why didn't he force his sister to put high-grade explosives on the plane too?

"He got … a 0," said Girlfriend in shock.

"Our Lord who art in heaven," began Vernon.

"I-is that good, sir?" asked Harry nervously, even as Dudley tried to drag him back towards a window, keeping him in front. Any other situation, he might have found the fact his baby-whale of a cousin was trying to hide behind him, a near stick figure. But having a madman with the weird outfit and a dart gun threatening to kill them all if they failed the tests kept that joy from rising. "Is that good?" he asked once more, turning to face Dr. Girlfriend.

"Is that good?" asked Monarch. "IS THAT GOOD?" He paused, before turning to Dr. Girlfriend. It was quite obvious to the woman he had absolutely no clue if that was good or not, but didn't want to voice his own uncertainty. He knew a negative score indicated you were a very poor possible choice for a henchman—even suicidal idiots didn't score below -10. A positive score indicated how good of a henchman you could be, with the more willing you were to die for no good reason or goal a good indicator of your possible future as well.

As far as he knew, no one had ever gotten a zero before. He himself had only scored a 97.

Taking pity on her love, Dr. Girlfriend proceeded to light up a cigarette first, letting him stew for a bit. "If this was a Guild-certified exam, he'd be being signed up right now for an internship with a supervillian."

The Monarch whistled a bit, before slowly turning to the boy. He wanted an heir, he definitely got one.

"So we get to live?" asked Vernon. "I mean, you can take the Freak with you, leave us and Dudders?"

"Yeah, take him!" quickly yelled Dudley, as he shoved Harry towards the men, before trying to make a run through the doorway, feeling brave enough that he could surely defeat the two brats dressed in pink. That probably wasn't a real knife anyway.

"Moppets, take down, no blood!" yelled Dr. Girlfriend. She hadn't been in too good of a mood after talking with Petunia about Harry's past.

But seeing the bitch's fat son take a severe beating would cheer her up. "Sweetie you were right, violence is the answer with these people."

The Monarch puffed up at that comment. He got himself an heir and Girlfriend admitted she had been wrong. Oh this was a glorious day. _Maybe I should go do something to Venture as well…_

Vernon stayed silent, holding his struggling wife at bay as the two mini-freaks assaulted his valiantly struggling Dudders. Oh sure, he may have wanted to save the boy, but he also wanted to be able to live past dinnertime.

"MINIONS!" yelled Monarch. "Prepare to vacate the premises!"

Dr. Girlfriend nodded as she watched the minions closest to her disassemble the small computer and begin loading it. "I better get started on his paperwork for the Guild."

"Huh?" asked Harry, pulling himself up from the ground. He'd have done it sooner, but he was enjoying the sight of Dudley getting pounded by two people smaller than him and probably a tenth of the whale's weight.

Dr. Girlfriend came over to him before lightly patting him on the head. "Mommy doesn't want her little trainee getting in trouble with the Guild for not having the proper files filled out."

"Trainee?" asked Monarch.

"Well someone hasn't been keeping up with their paperwork," she commented, glaring at him over her shoulder.

"I don't need forms!" waved off the Monarch.

"So when they come knocking for you to pay a fine for arching on Venture without filling out the proper forms, you'll answer the door?" she asked, daring him to respond.

"Um well… You see Pookie…

"MINIONS! HURRY THE HELL UP!" he yelled, turning around. "I swear; you gotta watch them or they'll rob you blind."

"My tele!" yelled Vernon.

"Dude, we can so play that new game system now," said 21 as he finished unplugging it.

"I know, this'll be so cool!" said 24.

"Well I never said they couldn't rob you blind," said Monarch, as several henchmen came down the stairs carrying pilfered toys from Dudley's two rooms.

Vernon roared. They could beat his kid; they could wrap his wife like a mummy; but to steal his television…

And then he saw some of the henchmen stealing his refrigerator.

"ARGH!" he screamed as he stomped towards the henchmen, ready to strangle them and show the freaks who was boss.

While 21 began to scream like a little girl, 24 lifted his arm and launched a dart from his wrist, taking Vernon down.

"Dude!" cried 21. "Where'd you get a wrist mounted gauntlet?"

"What do you mean?" asked 24. "We all have them, they're standard issue."

21 blinked, before he pointed his arm at the muffled and screaming form of Petunia and launched out a dart as well. "Why don't I know of this stuff?" he asked in shock.

"Come on, we were told all this on the first day," said 24. "Now help me with this TV, its heavy!"

"Tim-Tom, Kevin, stop rough-housing and head back to the cocoon," said Dr. Girlfriend, as she made sure Harry was semi-presentable. They'd have to stop in London and get him some clothes before the headed back to America. No child under her care would look so downtrodden. That and the tyke looked like he could use some very good meals, maybe a physician for new glasses.

"Come my new larva!" proclaimed Monarch, hand out towards Harry. "Come join us, your new family, and we shall teach you the ways of villainy, the ways of the deadly Monarch butterflies!"

"We can do that after we get him some food and a new wardrobe," admonished Dr. Girlfriend.

"But Pookie!"

"Now sweetie," said Dr. Girlfriend, "we can't have your heir coming down with anything, can we?"

"I … I guess not," sighed Monarch.

"But since things have gone so well, I guess you can arch Venture a little when we get home," she offered as a consolation. Besides, the paperwork for that was always prepared on her computer; she could just send it out with Harry's paperwork.

"YES!" cried Monarch, his depression forgotten.

"Now come along, dear," she said, turning to Harry.

"You're taking me away from here?" asked Harry.

"Yes, dear," said Dr. Girlfriend, as she bent over, picking up the small and thin child. "We're going to be your new family now."

Harry could only smile in happiness, as tears began to fall down his face. He was getting a new family, one that chose him!

Smiling, she carried the child out of the now nearly empty house—minus the two unconscious bodies of adults and one severely beaten child—towards the front door, where she noticed the Monarch smoking a cigar. "Since when do you smoke?" she asked.

"Eh, you always smoke when you get a new member in the family," said Monarch as he puffed on the cigar his minions had stolen from Vernon's private stash. Say what you will about the amoral fat slob; he did have good tastes in pricey things.

Nodding happily, she carried Harry up to the Cocoon and towards his new room.

After she was gone, the Monarch tossed the lit cigar onto the carpet behind him, causing an area soaked in lighter fluid in the shape of a butterfly to ignite. If this didn't send Marge into a fit, nothing would. Besides, he was doing the world a favor; no way should those two be breeding anymore.


	7. Magical Time Loops

**Magical Loops**

Disclaimer: I don't own this series or any other series. I am just floating an idea. I am making no money, nor plan to, off this venture. If you think of suing me over this, then grow up.

I would like to first personally thank all of those reviewing my stories. I enjoy reading your comments, and try to correct the grammatical errors I miss with my final read-through as well as my spell checkers. The suggestions you all make will help make this story better for everyone to enjoy, as well as allow my to fix some plot holes I may unintentionally leave. If you find any, let me know, and I will correct them and repost the chapters.

* * *

This group is based on a Groundhog's Day concept, if time was looping, and certain members were aware of this.

These are their insanities.

* * *

**New Loop #1:**

"Right, Harry," smirked Ron. "Like this has all happened before."

The last Potter would have snorted except for two things: he was eating and this certainly hadn't been the 'first' time he tried to explain things to his friends.

"Really Harry," sighed Hermione, "you have to have proof that this is real."

"And aside from my memories," Harry said, pausing between bites of roast beef, "and my power following me, care to tell me what follows through time loops?" For a logical girl—something extremely rare in the magical world—Hermione had a very small imagination.

Seeing her embarrassed look, he sighed. "Fine, then I'll give you a bit of future information.

"That bloody Goblet is going to ruin my life in a few minutes."

"How?" asked Hermione.

"It'll spit out my name," Harry said.

Ron's eyes went wide. "How'd you get past the Age Line? It was the cloak, wasn't it? How come you didn't get me so I coulda put my name in it?" he finished with a glare.

"I didn't put my name in it, Ron," glared Harry harshly. "Get your head out of your ass."

"Harry!" Hermione said, scandalized her friend would use such language.

"You know, its reasons like this I go into other houses in the Loops," he muttered.

"Other Houses?" Hermione asked, Ron still huffing at how Harry had reacted to what he considered honest questions.

Harry nodded. "Slytherin tends to be a bloodbath, but I can usually pull it off without killing all of my year," he said, fondly remembering the many assorted 'accidents' he had arranged. One never really got tired of seeing the upstart Emerald Trio of Crabbe, Goyle, and Ponce Malfoy dying in such interesting ways.

Of course, those Loops usually ended with the Gray Lord Potter taking over everything. But he felt dealing with Malfoy for even one day was worth at least one measly harem.

"And Hufflepuff is fun, once you give them some direction beyond drowning their issues in fatty foods. You'd be surprised how often I end up with them as a personal army and conquer the world. I never plan to, mind you. But it just always sort of happens with them.

"And Ravenclaw …well, you'd be surprised what one can accomplish with some great brains backing you up," he said with a smile. Not that he was thinking about how smart girls—present company included—tended to be really kinky.

His friends just stared at him, eyes wide, trying to digest the difference in the Harry before them and the one they thought they knew.

"You're loony," Ron stated, utmost convinced.

"Constantly repeating seven years at Hogwarts can't be good for your health, so that's pretty much a given," snorted Harry. "And just so you know, the Cannons never win.

"Hermione, S.P.E.W. will never take off because you never accept that you are taking a solitary view of what a House Elf wants without bothering to understand any of the principles behind it, somewhat like how the Pureblood bigots believe they know what is best for Muggleborns."

Her face paled, as if he had just revealed himself to really be Voldemort. "How … how could you?" she asked in a whisper.

Harry shrugged. "Because I saw you make it and fail thousands of times. I've seen you jump Ron during the Battle of Hogwarts when he wanted to warn the elves because this wasn't their fight and he didn't think they should be cut in the crossfire.

"I've also talked to the elves," he finished with a glare. "Dobby is the exception, not the rule. You want to improve House Elf rights, make sure they're protected from people like Malfoy, not from everyone."

"Harry Potter!" gasped Dumbledore, as the fourth paper from the Goblet of Fire was read.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I got a polyjuiced Death Eater to reveal and old Riddle's plans to foil. Later," he said with a smile, before standing up with a glare at Malfoy.

"So this is your attempt to 'defeat' me this year," Harry said with a dismissive snort, trying to mess with Malfoy's reputation once again. The little priss always did seem to think his name made him better than everyone, so why not blame Malfoy for any stupid and hairbrained plans that befell Harry. "Clearly didn't think this one out. Must be the Malfoy in him; a Black would never do such a … Gryffindor thing," he finished with a smile, as he made his way to the doorway, trying not to burst out laughing at Malfoy's red face. It was almost as much fun as making his loving relatives be nice.

Now … how to get Old Barty Jr. to be revealed and somehow … make it seem like Snape planned it?

* * *

**New Loop #2:**

Harry blinked as the Feast began once more. _So this was how my Second Year would have started…_

_Can't say I missed much,_ he thought with a heavy sigh. _I wonder if I'm strong enough to summon Mr. Weasley's auto from here…_

Looping wasn't bad, but waiting for some of the things you wanted to do was. It took six years in one Loop just to find an old book on properly raising basilisk—as well as a quick trip to the former Russian Block of Eastern Europe.

A simple charm! A single charm placed upon the eyes once every new moon could keep the snake's stare from being fatal, a charm even Neville could have perfected during Year 1! And why didn't it get taught?

Because apparently anything dealing with such things was pure evil—including the ways to defend against it—and thus should be forgotten. Merlin bless the Soviets and their hording of all things information and Merlin bless the magical EBay for selling said things.

Of course, this was now why a parcel of land he was 'supposed' to know about now had a nice large serpent protecting it as of the beginning of summer and why the Chamber of Secrets was now a nice new Home Away from Home.

That and it was the perfect place to Portkey large amounts of stunned magical horse-sized spiders to his place to feed his new pet. The Forbidden Forest did need to be cleared every once in a while—yet another issue the Headmaster was lax on, much like DADA teachers, teacher behavior, student behavior, and pureblood bigots.

_Next Loop, I am so going to France. Sorry, Krum, but I'd rather go to school with hot Veela than some of the girls I see on that boat with you._ He knew that area had hot women, just apparently none of them wanted to leave that school.

Pity.

But enough of depressing thoughts of women he'd never touch if it would make his 'family' suffer as if they were being hit with a Crucio by Bella herself. No, it was time for happy thoughts. It was time to decide:

Who should get the Horcrux diary this time? Malfoy? Lockhart? Luna was always a good choice; he'd never seen a Horcrux self-destruct before that time.

How to expose Lockhart? It was always nice having the pixies released in class seek out certain pureblooded students who had parents that were 'coerced' participants in Voldie's little power-grab. It was usually the only time you got to see Lockhart display any good physical skills.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Oh yes, he couldn't forget about his redheaded minion assistant. It was so nice to have a helper who never asked questions and would—and had—killed for you. She was almost as much an asset as Luna.

Which reminded him, he really needed to sneak into the Ravenclaw dorms again and befriend the blond. Loyalty like hers was always special … and deadly to his enemies.

But first, he pointed his wand towards the Head Table, closed his eyes, and thought his spell with all his power. _Accio Weasley Flying Car!_

Before the meal ended, Snape was literally Hogwart's first case of Hit and Run.

_Damn, I'm just that good._

* * *

**New Loop #3:**

Harry had been a busy boy this Loop. Quick changes only brought momentary happiness, a smug sense of satisfaction that could only last but a moment in time.

So … he took a page out of the Headmaster's book: a good conspiracy.

The group of Headmasters, Tri-Wizard contestants, and teachers stared in awe as an aura of … dark power flared around Harry. His face took a reddish tint to it, his eyes became the blackest pitch, as his gaze shifted to Dumbledore.

**"Once again,"** he spoke, his voice dark and nearly demonic, rumbling as if being spoken from the grave, **"you prove your inability to do the simplest task assigned to you by this school, Dumbledore.**

**"You failed to protect your children from harm."**

Harry's head twitched slightly, a wandless banisher lancing out and striking Moody before he could even finish getting his wand up, disarming the man … of everything, and sticking him to the cold wall in all his scarred glory.

**"I do not recall asking for fools to step in and offer their worthless opinions,"** sneered the fiend, as he closed his eyes for a moment.

**"Had not this vessel the control over my leash that he does, I would sever your head from your mangled corpse and quench my thirst with your foul blood."**

Snape turned his head quickly as the demon—he had no better word for what that thing was in Potter and that at one point he had met inside Potter's mind—scanned the room, looking for others to lash out at.

"W-what are you?" gasped out the half-giant Headmistress.

The being sneered a sneer worthy of a pureblood. **"I have a name only known to me, I am his guardian—doing a job you foolish vermin seem incapable of even at the best of times.**

**"And let it be known should this vessel be placed in anymore of these foolish and dangerous situations; I shall bring a literal hell upon you all, and you shall feel pain and terror worse than I brought upon that worthless flesh bag, Voldemort,"** he finished, nearly laughing as many flinched at the mentioning of that name. **"My one regret that night was his worthless butchered soul fled before I could … feast,"** he finished, licking his lips, his face almost contorted in ecstasy.

**"Well then, I have warned you one last time as I have promised my vessel. So please … ignore it,"** he finished with a smile as the aura and the reddish tinge faded away, leaving a confused Harry behind.

"Um … he got out again, didn't he?"

He tried as hard as he could not to laugh. It was one of the best plans he had ever made. Thanks to some years of practice, a few tricks borrowed from a former dark lord, and some suggestions from Luna, Harry was now the proud 'landlord' to a very powerful demon.

The hardest part was protecting his mind from the 'magic eyes' of three people in particular. But the Black Library and the remaining 'good' Marauders had helped him with that several Loops ago. Thanks to Snape's first and only attempt, no one would dare try to peek into his mind, lest they anger 'it'.

Why hadn't it shown up before? Why, it was because of a deal made with his mother, a deal which stated he could not act unless the boy was in mortal danger or he received his Hogwarts Letter, whatever came first.

What happened to Quirrell and the Stone? Best not ask, but suffice to say the 'demon' had fun. And poor fragmented Tom would never tell. _I should have won an Oscar._

Oh yes, Harry played the part so well, he almost believed it himself. So the question would soon be … who would piss off 'it' next? _I wonder what'll be said when I make a nested dragon mother piss herself in fear…_

* * *

**New Loop #4:**

Harry sighed. So it was another Loop. It wasn't like he could spot anyone he knew at the moment. That meant no Ranma, no Naruto—which thankfully always included Anko, no Bleach—which meant no 50s transfigured Orihime as a robot attacking everything, no Evangelion pilots.

Yes, just a Loop by himself. He had already tested his friends and discovered that for the first time in a long while, he was the only one awake. Yes, this was going to be a nice Loop to unwind. Yes, this was the perfect time for a nice … relaxing … vacation.

That was of course until Professor McGonagall called a name he had only heard in those manga Ranma and Shinji always carried with them.

"Mido, Miko!" yelled the professor, as a small blue-haired girl walked forward.

"Well," murmured Harry, trying to find a bright side in this newest incarnation of hell, "at least I don't have a Jusenkyo Curse."

That reminded him, he really, **really** needed to personally thank Ranma for that. Bad enough he resembled his mother with his father's eyes in his girl form, but somehow, a drunken Snape always found him.

* * *

**New Loop #5:**

Harry blinked as reality resumed around him. It was the part he really hated: the part between the last's Loop's reset and fully awakening in the current Loop. It was like waking up during the good part in a movie, but no idea what happened before until your date explained it.

It was very uncomfortable, as if you didn't get the plot you were now a part of.

But Harry was if nothing someone who could adapt and survive; something his first time in Dursley Prison for the Innocent had instilled in him. It was probably how he had survived so long in the Loops before the Goddesses had come to inform him of them, let alone why those who joined him in the Loops had such a low-level of instability.

Unlike Sakura. Man, was he so very happy he wasn't Uzumaki. Poor bastard…

Anyway, he shook his head and looked around. Same sheep of a wizarding community, same people led astray by any rumor or group of power-mad mongrels.

Hmm, perhaps it was time to take advantage of that…

* * *

"Gred, Forge, to me!" called Harry during the dinner at Hogwarts.

The twin Gryffindors blinked, looked at each other, shrugged, and approached the second year house mate.

"I decided that this 'Heir of Slytherin' bullshit will be useful," said Harry with a smile. "So, I've decided to start a rebellion … for the Muggle-born," Harry stated.

"Then if we may ask…"

"… why choose two purebloods?" the twins stated.

Harry shrugged. "If the purebloods could choose the Dork Lord, a halfblood named Tom Malvolo Riddle, also known as Voldemort—could lead the pureblood propaganda, why can't I choose two pureblood's as my lieutenants to usher in the rule of muggleborns and halfbloods?"

The twin Wealseys looked at each other and shrugged. "No reason," they admitted. Though the info about the former Dark Lord was a nice little tidbit. They could probably use that later on.

As busy as they were, they failed to notice the pale face of their sister.

"Right," said Harry, pretending not to notice as the youngest Weasley tossed a diary under the table. "I shall send you off to gather me some … virgins," said Harry with a smile.

"Virgins?" the twins asked with shock.

"Well, what Dark Lord doesn't need some virgins?" asked Harry with confusion. "This is how Dark Lords operate, right? I mean, I was Muggle-raised by some idiots."

Shrugging, the twins turned back towards him. "So, which girls do you want…"

"For us to take?"

"Unless you like males."

"Who are we to judge?"

"No, girls," said Harry with a smile. "Lots of girls. Don't care for the shape, as long as they are female, single, and disease free." He did have some standards, after all. And even Bulstrode was welcome in the bedroom after so many Loops. There was some truth to the phrase 'cushion for the pushing' after all. What was eternity without variety?

"Ah," both redheads nodded with understanding.

"Can we offer our sister?" asked Fred.

"Pure virgin," said George.

"At least as far as we know," corrected Fred.

"You haven't claimed her?" asked George.

"Have you?" they asked together.

"Maybe later," Harry waved off. Eternity was hard after all if you didn't want to feel icky for dating girls that mentally were centuries younger than you, without feeling 'icky'. The fact said girl was now blushing deeper than any Weasley should have been capable of was beside the point.

It wasn't like he hadn't 'experienced' that beforehand.

"Right now," said Harry, focusing on the issue at hand, "we need to secure my future empire."

"And how big will it be?" asked Fred.

Harry paused for a moment. "Well not the whole world," he replied. "Right nightmare in control, that is. I'd rather have a nice chunk, mind you. But the whole world? I'd be too busy running it to enjoy anything, least until I had a runt to run it in my stead.

"But then I'd have to worry about the little bugger trying to off me for all the power.

"I'd rather enjoy my life," Harry concluded finally.

"So … pirates then?" asked George with a smile.

Harry blinked. Had he ever acted like a pirate in the Loops? "What the hell; why not?" he asked with a smile, waving his wand and changing his robes into a puffy shirt, eye patch, the Sword of Gryffindor at his side, and Hedwig on his shoulders. "Argh, bring me a wench and some booty!"

"I do believe—"

"—young Harry has gone—"

"—round the bend."

"But more fun for us!" the twins said in glee, before using similar charms on themselves.

* * *

"I told you, Albus," sneered Snape, "the boy would be nothing but trouble."

"I'm sure this is only a minor issue," Dumbledore tried to sooth.

"Albus!" shrieked McGonagall. "We've been tied and sentenced to hang from something called a yard arm! This is all those blasted Muggles fault you forced him to stay with! Where else would Harry have learned such deplorable behavior?"

Across the multiverse—at least the portion locked within similar loops—a pigtailed boy, a blond Jinchuuruki, a substitute Shinigami, a male Evangelion Pilot, a small-chested sorceress, and a fire-priestess-turned Senshi all sneezed.

* * *

**New Loop #6:**

Harry sighed as he sat in the train. "Well, once again, True Believers; we find our magical hero inside an outdated train on his way to the first year of Hogwarts."

Looking around, he noticed that in this Loop at least, he hadn't shown up before the train—which usually meant he could get some 'accessories' in Knockturn Alley—or during the Sorting—which meant he was already friends with Ron and thus likely to start using the Killing Curse in moments to save himself the stress.

"Hell, I'd take Ron being awake in this Loop," he murmured, remembering the last one. It was never a good sign when you felt a Loop was becoming stale. It meant you might try 'other things' to keep yourself amused.

And that path led to the yaoi, and thus the Dark Side.

"Hells bells, these kids need to learn to slow down!"

"Oh calm down, Harry. They're children. Most children enjoy such things."

"Bite me, Thomas."

"Sorry, wrong Court."

"Would you two shut up before I shoot you."

"Better listen to her, Thomas. Murphy knows how to make a shot count."

Harry blinked as he watched the door open, displaying three children he had never seen before. One was a small blond girl who looked somewhat tired. One was a pale boy who Harry would admit looked handsome for his age—not that he was gay, just that he could appreciate such things. And one was a messy kid holding a large walking stick, with a tailless cat on one side and a small happy puppy on the other.

Seeing it, he could only say one thing. "Ah, new Loopers," he said heavily, as he leaned back, hoping Ranma had at least met these people and explained things to them.

"Loopers?" murmured the cute boy.

The girl's expression grew darker. "Okay, where's Saotome?" she asked.

Harry's head sunk. _Great, they know Ranma and he isn't here. I get angry visitors. Oh fucking joy…_ "Likely not here in this Fused Loop."

"Fused Loop?" asked the messy boy with the animals.

Harry nodded. "Welcome to what we in the Loops call the 'Hogwarts Fused Loop'. I am Harry Potter, your guide through the next seven-to-eight years of your teen lives through a magical school, civil war, and the Land that Common Sense forgot."

"Magical school?" asked the girl, before turning towards the messy kid. "Harry, if there was a school I could have gone to, I am so kicking your ass."

"Damn it, Murphy, magic isn't some mail-order college."

"Maybe you three should get in here," muttered Harry, already feeling a headache and the desire to start slaughtering people coming to bear.

"Great," muttered the messy boy as they entered. "I'm going to Hogwarts. Now I owe Molly one of Mac's best."

"So I take it I'm either a comic or a book where you're from."

"Books," replied the messy boy, reaching into a backpack and withdrawing a skull. "Hey, Bob; wake up!"

The skull's eyes began to get a dull orange glow in them, as the sound of a yawn made itself known in the compartment. "We there yet?"

Blinking, Harry looked at the young messy boy who seemed to have an obvious grasp on magic. "And you are?"

The boy smiled as he held out his hand. "Harry Dresden, wizard; I'm in the phone book!"

Harry Potter just twitched. "This is going to be one of those Loops, I just know it."


	8. Magical Time Loops 2

**Magical Loops 2**

Disclaimer: I don't own this series or any other series. I am just floating an idea. I am making no money, nor plan to, off this venture. If you think of suing me over this, then grow up.

I would like to first personally thank all of those reviewing my stories. I enjoy reading your comments, and try to correct the grammatical errors I miss with my final read-through as well as my spell checkers. The suggestions you all make will help make this story better for everyone to enjoy, as well as allow me to fix some plot holes I may unintentionally leave. If you find any, let me know, and I will correct them and repost the chapters.

* * *

This group is based on a Groundhog's Day concept, if time was looping, and certain members were aware of this.

These are their insanities.

* * *

**New Loop #1:**

Harry growled as he looked around, just knowing it was going to be one of those Loops. "For the last time, simply blowing up the dragon is not an option to win the Challenge," he said.

"And why is that?" asked Lina Inverse.

"Because killing the dragon means killing the unborn hatchlings, which means no points."

"But … I get the gold egg still, right?"

"Well … yeah, but—"

"And the points only work to give me a head start in the final Challenge, which if we're being honest, isn't going to be a real deal-breaker for me."

"Okay, that is true. But—"

"So I really don't see how me using a Dragon Slave is a bad thing."

Harry twitched, trying not to launch a Killing Curse at her. "Because … that would level the dragon, the stadium, Hogwarts, and a good portion of the countryside, which I'm sure they'd deduct from any winnings you **might** receive."

"… Are you saying they'd make a student pay for all of that?"

"To be honest, I'm surprised they don't in your world. How many towns have you wrecked?"

Now it was Lina's turn to twitch. "Quiet, you! Ranma isn't here to save your ass."

* * *

**New Loop #2:**

Harry ignored the glares from his fellow students. Most hated him because he had been sorted into Slytherin this Loop. Those in Slytherin—at least a large portion of them—glared at him in hatred for many other reasons.

There was the obvious, that 'he' was responsible for the Pureblood's leader going missing.

The other probably was the fact a good third of that house was now in various medical centers being treated for their failed assault on him the first night there.

Wasn't his fault they had assumed that as a First Year, he'd be easy pickings for the revenge schemes and such of the Slytherins. Not exactly a plan that was very cunning—circle him, point, and hex—or ambitious—taking out a single First Year.

Nevertheless, it was somewhat odd to see that some of the Slytherins were looking at him with reverence as he sat down at the table. Thankfully, said area was Malfoy free as he had been one of the late-joiners to the ambush, and thus forced to the front as the ill-fated human shield.

Whoops. Apparently Lucius wasn't building the right sort of bridges.

Turning, he spotted Amelia Bones entering into the Great Hall, making a beeline for his table. He could already here the Headmaster and his Head of House. _Showtime!_

"Mr. Potter?"

"Yes?" asked Harry.

"May I see your wand?"

Harry nodded, handing it to her, even as he noticed Snape's sneer. It was obvious the Half-Blood Prince thought Harry would be expelled, his wand snapped, and thus make him free of that Life Debt.

Not that it mattered. That little trick Ranma taught him about Subspace Pockets or whatever they were called was a real wonder. He had hundreds of those wands in his pocket now. Breaking one didn't really matter in the end.

Much to Snape's fury, Amelia simply ran her own wand over his, before handing it back. "I have removed the trace, Lord Potter."

"Lord!" Snape bellowed.

"Yes, Lord Harry Potter," smirked the Looping-Boy-Who-Lived-With-Hyphens. "Amazing what you can learn with a few questions to the Goblins and a fan in the Ministry."

"This brat should be expelled! He attacked my students!" yelled Snape.

"And he had a viewing crystal, took a binding oath, and even took Veritaserum to prove he was the one assaulted. There was simply too much evidence damning those students to keep it quiet or make it go away," stated Amelia.

_Of course, the fact I gave copies of all that information to all the Press here and on the continent probably helped a lot,_ Harry thought, keeping the smile off his face and his eyes away from any 'curious' adults. Even Fudge couldn't hide this, no matter the bribes offered.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, I request that Professor Snape be removed from his position as Head of House."

"WHAT?" bellowed Snape.

"As demonstrated, I feel that his ability to make informed decisions has been compromised both due to his earlier rivalry with my father and the fact that his Godson was Draco Malfoy. No doubt he will see my act of self defense as 'Potter arrogance'," Harry finished with a blank face.

"I'm sure Professor Snape can put aside any animosity he feels towards Harry's father," offered Dumbledore.

"No offense, sir; but I'd rather have an impartial judge make that decision," stated Harry.

Damn it, he was going to teach these people cunning if it killed them all.

* * *

**New Loop #3a:**

Harry smiled as he entered the Great Hall, preparing for what he hoped would be a nice break from his Looping life.

"Um … Harry?"

"Yeah, Hermione?" he asked, sitting at the Gryffindor table and piling his plate high with food. Who knew when he'd eat that well for the next week, even with the amount of converted funds and aging potion he carried with him now.

"Where are your robes?" she asked, looking at his plain Muggle clothes. "You'll never make it back to the Tower in time to get changed for classes."

"Not going," smiled Harry.

"WHAT?" Hermione shrieked.

Harry just proceeded to ignore her as he ate.

"What do you mean you aren't going to your classes?" she demanded.

"I mean I'm leaving for a week or so," he replied in-between bites of his breakfast. By the time he would arrive, he'd have already missed lunch.

"You can't leave!" Hermione hissed.

"Sure I can," he mused. "Got myself a permission slip and everything." Of course, said slip was signed by his Godfather in a previous Loop, but it still counted.

"Where are you going?" asked Ron.

Harry just smiled. "The magical place known as Mardi Gras!"

Hermione simply stared at him. "You can't go. You're a First Year and we need to guard the Sorcerer's Stone."

Harry snorted. "If a man over six centuries old can't guard his own rock, what chance do we have. Besides, I'm not paid to save Dumbledore's ass from his own stupid mistakes."

"Harry!"

The Boy-Who-Lived shrugged. "Hermione, I can either stay here, trying to keep Voldemort from attaining the stone that shouldn't even be here in the first place, or I can go to Mardi Gras which has nude women, flowing alcohol, and a nearby colony of Veela filled with young members who are just coming into their hormones.

"Yes, I can see how this would be a tough decision … not," he smirked, returning to his eggs.

A few at the table were staring at him now, some with fear because he said the Dark Lord's name, others because they felt he was being disrespectful to the Headmaster, and still a few more who wanted to beg him to take them with him.

"But what if he gets the stone while you're away?" whispered Hermione.

"Two things wrong with that off the bat," said Harry, as he spooned more food onto his plate—one just didn't drink on an empty stomach. "First is that even if he got the stone, would he even know how to make the Elixir with it? Second is you'd have to be right stupid to think Flamel would trust anyone with the real stone. He had to have protected it from people a lot more skilled than Voldie."

Finishing his meal, Harry stood up, whipping out his permission form—complete with a few words specifically to Snape from Sirius—and handed it to said man who had slunk up to the Gryffindor table to take points off for Harry's current attire.

"Later," he said with a pleasant smile as his homemade portkey activated.

* * *

**New Loop #3b:**

"They've been gone for a week, Albus!" growled McGonagall.

"Now Minerva, I'm sure Severus will have Harry returned to us soon."

"Albus … they have been gone a week. The last Floo report you had from Severus was his chatter about some Muggle place called Margaritaville."

"Yes, but one cannot be too certain where young Harry might have absconded to. I must commend Severus for his dedication to tracking down young Mr. Potter.

"I also admit we will need to further limit Harry's wanderlust. The world simply isn't safe for him. He's not yet ready to face the dark forces that would seek to harm him."

"Like his relatives," mumbled McGonagall.

"What was that, Minerva?" asked Dumbledore, eyes on full twinkle. "I seemed to have suffered a momentary bit of deafness."

"I SAID HIS RELATIVES!" yelled the professor.

"… I see," muttered Dumbledore, surprised at her reaction. "Anyway, I am most looking forward to learning how young Harry got a signed permission slip from his Godfather."

Further discussion was cut off as the doors to the Great Hall burst forth; delivering an image many would swear was a herald of the things to come.

"To the place … I belong!" came the severely tone-deaf and slurring drunk voices of Severus Snape and Harry Potter. "West Virginia! Mountain Mama! Take me home … country road!"

"Mr. Potter!" yelled Dumbledore. "Professor Snape! What is the meaning of this?"

Harry stumbled a bit, obviously still inebriated, before focusing on Dumbledore. "Well … well you see … the song is about this wonderful place called West Virginia, which has these … these…

"What were they called again?" asked Harry.

"Keggers!" smirked Snape, before he collapsed to the floor, revealing a shirt under his robe and a medal proclaiming him "Bartender of the Year".

"… Lightweight," snorted Harry. "Oh, Headmaster Professor Dumbledore, what're you doing here?"

"Mr. Potter; you're drunk!" bellowed McGonagall.

"Yes I am!" proudly proclaimed Harry. "I'm also tattooed, a member of the State Senate thanks to a bet, and I think I might be engaged to a classroom full of Veela." Patting down his shirt, he reached under it, pulling out several ornate bead necklaces. "Who'll show 'em for some beads?"

"What do you mean?" asked Neville.

Harry's eyes went wide as he stumbled over to the First Year Gryffindor. "Nev man, you don't know. It is an ancient tradition in New Orleans that once a year, if a bloke offers a drunk bird some beads, she'll show off her bare tits!"

Suffice to say, some Purebloods that day began to grow very fond of Muggles.

"Harry James Potter!" yelled Hermione.

Harry just blinked before he started to take off a necklace.

Hermione gasped and covered her chest—despite the fact that she was still wearing the school robe. "I am not going to flash you!"

"… Oh," he said quietly, before turning around. "Anyone else?"

"Got any photos?" asked Ron, causing him to earn several glares from the assorted girls.

"Sure!" said Harry, producing an album.

"Mr. Potter!" yelled McGonagall, making a beeline to his position. "You will go to the Hospital Wing and have Poppy flush that alcohol out of your system!"

"But I gotta be on the Senate floor in a few hours!" pleaded Harry. "Sure, I don't know what the bill is about, but I gotta either support someone or condemn it."

"Mr. Potter, do not make us use magic on you in this condition," said Dumbledore, trying to promote a caring image.

Harry just snorted. "Oh sure, stun the drunk Potter when he's happy! But when you hire a Defense Professor with Voldie in the back of his head, you just let him try to kill me all year long!

"God, this school sucks. No Veela and I can't get a girl to flash me here.

"I'm going back to the states," he said, making his way over to Snape and ignoring the stares of shock pointed at him.

"Oy, wake up!" yelled Harry, before kicking Snape in the side. Getting no response, he reached into his robes and produced a can of beer, cracking it open.

"I'm awake!" yelled Snape.

"Take me back!"

Teetering, Snape looked over to his drinking partner, a part of him taking pride in corrupting James Potter's spawn—even if he had been the one who Harry corrupted into a drinking game with some teenage Veela who thought their accents were dreamy. "Back where?"

"Mardi Gras!"

"Um … it's over I think."

"Really? Damn," mumbled Harry. Snorting, he waved it off. "K then, I'm off to sleep."

"Sleep," Mumbled Snape, before his eyes went wide and he stood up as well as his intoxication would allow him. "I got to get to work. Maggie will kill me if I'm late again!" he yelled, running out the Great Hall.

Harry and the others all stared once again, before Harry shrugged. "Damn, we really were drinking away his paycheck. Good to know." With that, he made his way out of the Great Hall as a few professors not frozen in shock turned on Quirrell.

* * *

**New Loop #4:**

Harry sat within the room, hands working over the game console in his hands.

As far as most of Europe was concerned, magic and Muggle electronics didn't work too well. In fact, the fact that magic tended to alter the 'immutable' laws of physics had something to do with that.

Of course, such people didn't have Harry's free time to work around such issues. Moreover, because of that work, Harry was now left with a new quandary.

"Should I try and capture the Charizard?" he asked.

Above him, a Cerberus looked down, each one giving a whimper.

Sighing, Harry went through the selection screen to launch a pokéball at the Pokémon. "I swear, you guys just want final evolutions, no matter how many I have," he said.

The trio of heads just panted happily.

"Potter! I shoulda known!"

Looking up, Harry spotted friends from another life, the Golden Trio of this Loop: Ron, Hermione, and Neville.

Not in this life, however; not since Harry was 'sorted' into Slytherin.

"I knew it!" cried Ron, pointing at him. "You are evil and you're helping Snape get the Stone!"

Harry arched his eyebrow for a moment, before sighing. Standing up, he set the Gameboy down on the ground and cast an enlarging charm on it. "Can you three play nice and not slobber all over it?"

The Cerberus just panted happily, its front paws now working the controls.

Nodding that his Gameboy was in safe—er—paws, Harry turned to face them, not even giving any sign of caring that Ron now had his wand trained on him. "Now, can one of you two give me an answer why Ronald seems to believe I am after some Stone?"

Neville opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by Hermione. "How can you be using that thing? Electronics don't work here. It says so in _Hogwarts, A History_," she asked quickly.

"… Bloody mental," sighed Ron.

_How did we ever survive?_ Harry wondered, not for the first time. Wandlessly summoning their wands, Harry slipped them into his robes. "I can do that because I didn't listen to those who claimed to know better," he said towards Hermione. "And if Ronald calls me evil one more time, I'll send him to the hospital wing to have his wand removed from his ass."

Ron's eyes went wide at that, gulping in some fear.

"Are you here for the Stone?" asked Neville.

Harry just gave a small smile. "You mean Flamel's paperweight?" asked Harry.

"I knew it!" cried Ron. "You're after the Sorcerer's Stone!"

Harry just snorted. "Of all the Weasleys, I get the one with the lowest IQ as a classmate…"

Ron's ears went red at that, Neville holding him back from attacking the one wizard in the room that not only had their wands, but also seemed on very good terms with the large Cerberus in the room with them.

"Let's see if any of you have the amazing rare super power of Common Sense," said Harry. "What is wrong with this scenario?" he asked.

"What do you mean? What scenario?" asked Hermione.

He twitched. If it weren't for the fact they were eleven and it could send him to repeating First Year so soon, he'd have cursed them … badly. "Oh, I don't know, Ms. Granger. Let's see.

"We have a powerful magical artifact that its creator can't seem to adequately protect after six centuries. We have what amounts to worthless defenses for it in a castle full of children. We have the fact that no one seems to bother putting an actual guard on the artifact aside from Fluffy here," he said, pointing to the happy dog.

"Does any of this strike you guys as—oh, I don't know—planned?"

"But You-Know-Who," stuttered Neville.

"Do you really think Flamel would send his real stone to Dumbledore?" asked Harry. "And even if Voldie got it, who would tell him how to make the Elixir of Life with it?" Harry finished.

The trio just stared at him.

"…" Sighing and rubbing his forehead, Harry turned around. "You can play it all night, but I better get it back slobber free and still in working order tomorrow."

"Woof," the Cerberus responded.

"I'm going to bed," Harry sighed.

"But … but the Stone," gaped Hermione.

Harry waved her off. "Like I was going to wait for the adults to get off their ass. I stole the fake weeks ago after Dumbledore set up what he considered traps: Devil's Snare, a chessboard, flying keys, a troll, and a logic riddle. And he didn't even notice." Harry reached into his pocket, pulling out the fake stone. "I'm not too sure what it does, but Flamel said I could keep it as a souvenir."

"You talked to Nicolas Flamel!" gasped Hermione.

"How do you think I knew everything was based on a fake," stated Harry, pocketing the stone. "What? You never thought to mail him and ask why he'd support something this dangerous and stupid with the only thing keeping him and his wife alive?

"Honestly, I'm wondering how stupid people had to be if such a smart self-proclaimed Dark Lord and Quirrell didn't figure that out."

"Quirrell?" asked Ron. "But Snape tried to…"

Harry shrugged. "Well, no super powers here," he sneered as he walked away. "Hmm, with Common Sense, a man could do anything, anything like conquer the Wizarding World," Harry finished with a light chuckle as he shut the door behind him.

It would be several minutes before the three First years remembered: they didn't have their wands, the door was spelled shut, and the only thing between them and being mauled to death was the hunt for the elusive Pikachu.

* * *

**New Loop #5:**

Harry smirked as he read the headline on the latest issue of the _Daily Prophet_.

**Dark Lord robs Minister. "Gone too far!" claims Fudge.**

For his entire first year, Harry had used the Henge no Jutsu to look like Voldemort, and then proceeded to start off with small pranks. The Henge didn't leave a magical signature, the revised one made sure no matter what, the Aurors would always see proof the Dark Lord was back.

You couldn't very well fear a Dark Lord whose latest stunts included shaving Dumbledore, putting Fawkes in a female sailor fuku the phoenix could not remove, filled the Slytherin common room with fecal matter—Fred Weasley gave a nice quote about how the dorm had gone to shit—shaved Snape's hair, picketed outside of Gringott's about their high surcharges, and a host of other items that made many openly question if the Dark Lord had not only survived dealing with Harry, but if he had survived with a few brooms short of a Quidditch Team.

Though he had to admit, the Lovegoods would love the photo the paper had of Voldemort, sneaking out of Fudge's with a bag of gold, a pie with a goblin face in it, and a gilded cage with a heliopath in it.

Of course, he had been at this defamation campaign since August. And here it was mid-April, Quirrell looked like he had been run ragged, but still they had yet to make a play for the Flamel's stone.

Nodding his head, Harry headed to get his cloak and a Time Turner. It looked like it was time for 'Voldemort' to strike at Quirrell for killing his zombie pen pal. "I swear, you can't trust Dumbledore to do anything.

"Hmm, maybe he's like Samson, but removing his beard makes him as smart as Draco."

* * *

**New Loop #6:**

"I know this is scary," muttered Harry, watching the happy couple from afar. "But you know, I think they're made for each other."

"You would," snorted Hermione. "But I find it sick."

"I think he's a bigger loon than Looney," snorted Ron, before he was silenced and sent into dreamland by a backhand from Hermione.

"I warned you he wasn't awake," smiled Harry. "But no, you figure he can be trained."

"I was wrong, so sue me," sneered Hermione. "And how can you not find this deeply disturbing and against nature."

"No, what we made in class today was against nature.

"Those two dating is a match made in Nerima," he finished with a smile. "Besides, they mesh so well."

* * *

"I think the nargles are about to start another mating season," said Luna, as she leaned against the masked-Gryffindor's chest.

"Perhaps it is because of the little yellow boxes," wondered Wade Winston Wilson, otherwise known to the multiverse as Deadpool. "That or the writer needed a way to work 'nargles' into our conversation."

* * *

**New Loop #7:**

"I am your Divinations Teacher, Deadpool. Now for roll call. If I don't call your name, you are obviously either unimportant to the story line or you'll die somehow before graduation, so I won't waste the effort to teach you any skills."

"... Um, Harry?" gulped Ron.

"Your own fault, Ron," sadly said Harry. "See, if you had stood out more from your brothers, you wouldn't worry about this."

* * *

**New Loop #8:**

Ever since the first Fused Loop, a starting point was never constant. Before it, Harry would always wake up before his First Year as a Loop restarted itself.

Now, not so much.

Indeed, this time he awoke the day before Dumbledore was to have a 'lesson' with him, a field trip to a cave filled with undead.

Now, normally that would have upset the Looping Potter. He'd barely have a year, less if he finished off Tom before his Seventh Year started.

But now he had a chance for some fun. The Marauder's Map stated Draco was still in the Slytherin dorms, waiting for Dumbledore to be busy elsewhere before starting Voldie's invasion plans.

Too bad they were going to be sunk.

"You can come out now, Moody," Harry said, casting a spell on the wall near a suit of armor to generate the first of the runes he needed.

Silence only answered him.

"You disturbed the drapes behind you when you slid into position," he continued. "I assume that despite his assurances everything would work out, you've taken a bit more interest in the Death Nibbler."

A figure appeared as his invisibility cloak was removed. "What are you up to, Potter?" he growled, his eye darting everywhere, focusing at points on Harry's work.

"Setting up a death trap for any Death Eater or unwelcome werewolf that Malfoy allows through the Vanishing Cabinet," Harry offered, deciding not to tell him about the thermite or C-4 bombs he had prepared for Dobby and Kreacher to toss through the cabinet after the invasion force came through.

Never forget to give a deserving guest a present.

Moody sneered. "What about Snape?"

"Well, for the greater good, obviously we can't tell him," smirked Harry. "This place is set to activate when the Nibbler entered the Room of Requirement to open the finished project. Afterwards, the wards I'm hooking up will target anyone coming out with a Mark or is a werewolf with every curse, hex, and spell I can cram into them."

"And how'll you power this?" Moody asked with a curious look, limping over to watch Harry work.

"I'm tying it in to the ward scheme that repairs the damaged walls," Harry stated. "A minor ward scheme that can requisition tons of power from the sinks Hogwarts has."

"What about the ones that don't come out?"

"Oh, Draco's big idea was to use the Darkness Powder the twins sell to cover their entrance. Luckily, the sensor spells don't need to physically see them to target their Marks." Nodding as he was finished except for connecting the power wards in, Harry turned around, dumping several dozen small marble blocks out of his bag onto the floor, and began to levitate them into the optimal positions. Each one contained a preset spell pattern, no more than three, which it would run through when a living Dark Mark or werewolf entered the hallway around the Room, and would not stop until the target had expired.

"You're good, Potter," snorted Moody, taking a drink from his flask. "Didn't know you knew how to do this stuff."

"Having a madman and his cult after you while the responsible adults do nothing to prepare you is a great motivator," snorted Harry.

"And how do you plan to hide this from that shit-stain spawn?" asked Moody as Harry turned around and finished connecting the power scheme.

Smirking, Harry tucked his wand into his holster and went through several hand signs, laying down an area genjutsu. _Thank you, Naruto!_

Moody's jaw dropped as even to his magical eye, the wards and the blocks all melted from his sight, as if they weren't even there. After all, his eye could trace magic, not chakra.

"Well, I have a lesson here in a bit with the Old Man," sighed Harry as he grabbed his stuff. "If you could, station Professor Lupin away from this area. Unlike Snape, I got no problem hinting he shouldn't be here.

"Snape on the other hand… Well, as a double-agent, he should know best about constant vigilance."

Moody barked a weak laugh as he started to put his invisibility cloak back on. "Smart kid, we'll talk later," he growled as he vanished, probably to find a safe place to observe the coming show.

Harry almost skipped towards the Headmaster's office. It wasn't every day that he got to create a body-engulfing Bubble-Head Charm and transfigure an entire lake of water into pure hydrochloric acid.

Even the undead were sorta attached to their bodies.

* * *

**New Loop #9:**

"I so hate you right now," growled Harry, as time and space reset themselves, Hermione quickly finding him on the train and pulling him aside for a quiet chat. Sadly—or perfectly, depending on one's point of view—Ron wasn't awake yet. And should the last Loop have been the one he 'awoke' in, they really didn't feel like dealing with him at the moment.

"It wasn't that bad," she waved off.

"You tricked me into drinking a potion that made me a demi-Veela," he growled.

"Oh, stop acting like you didn't enjoy it."

"I didn't enjoy it when the Bulgarian Veela during the Quidditch World Cup abducted me, twice!"

"Well, you're the one who instead of escaping, decided to play the hero and take out those drunk Death Eaters."

"I didn't enjoy it when they started trying to track down whatever divine influence was keeping me from breeding with them," he continued.

"Peorth was very nice dealing with that. She did say it would have to wait for the Loops to be over."

"I don't even want to discuss why Beauxbatons showed up with dozens of Veela students."

"Well, be glad that the Veela networks hadn't reached all the way to Durmstrang, or that would have been more."

"And then I—wait, Veela networks?" asked Harry.

Hermione just nodded, pulling a electronic device from another world from her robes and began to type. "Yes, apparently they thought you were some legendary male Veela sent to offer a rebirth of their race into Veela witches, given your new allure and your high power levels," she stated, making a nope to revisit those topics at a later Loop. "How come it ended, anyway?"

Harry snorted. "After that year, I ran towards the Killing Curse that Wormtail launched to deal with the spare."

"Seriously, boys!" sighed Hermione. "Give them their wildest dream and they still whine."

"My wildest dream isn't to be a living sex toy!" he yelled.

"Oh Harry," she said sadly, cupping his cheek, "you never know what you want. But don't worry! Next time, I'll ensure the potion gives you staying power and—"

"Avada Kedavra!"

* * *

"That wasn't very nice, Harry," growled Hermione, pulling him back into the compartment after Harry's Killing Curse reset the Loop.

"Neither was turning me into a massive test subject," he growled.

"Well then, who do you suggest I make a test subject who will follow me if something bad occurs to give me viable feedback."

"… Snape! Blowing him up is always good."

"Do you really want Snape to be a Sex God for even one Loop?" she asked.

"… Damn you and your logic, Granger!"

"Fine, fine," she waved off, wondering how many Loops it took for Harry to become such a drama queen. "Now take this potion and owl me in the morning."

* * *

**New Loop #10:**

Harry just smirked as he looked at the Wizengamot, trying not to burst out laughing. He had had the perfect timing to start this Loop a few days before the Dementor attack, giving him more than enough time to set everything up. "So what you're basically saying is that since those in charge insist that all the Dementors have been accounted for, my story cannot possibly have happened?"

"Of course!" barked Fudge. "Now then—"

"I see," said Harry interrupting the man again as he was glaring now at him. "So, let's just say that instead of driving them off, I forced them into this magically expanded bag I purchased at Diagon Alley last week," Harry stated with a smile, producing said bad—Order guards really shouldn't be assigned if they were just going to fall asleep. "And after opening this bag, shook the two Dementors out, that would mean someone in charge of the Dementors had been lying about their count, wouldn't it?"

Dumbledore stared at Harry, wanting to force himself into the trial to help the boy. But sadly, Harry had been very adamant about not accepting any help at all.

Though that was not to say after they were finished here, he wouldn't send a message to those watching Harry at Sirius's place to determine how young Harry had done such a thing as forcing Dementors into a Bag of Holding, let alone why he never informed anyone at Grimmauld. Such things were too dangerous for Harry to deal with at the moment.

"Impossible!" bellowed Umbridge. "You expect us to believe you have these Dementors that allegedly attacked you in that bag?"

"You're not very familiar with magic, are you, Madam Umbridge?" asked Harry, trying to appear sincere, made all the harder by the laughing of several in the Wizengamot. Ignoring her glare, he continued. "Madam Bones, do I have your permission to drop the contents of this bag out to prove me case?"

"Of course," stated the woman. "Though I may ask how you forced them into there."

"Ah, a Patronus Charm has many more uses than believed," said Harry, creating a twinkle in his eye and trying to sound exactly like Dumbledore.

With that, he opened the bag and dropped out two very confused Dementors, each of which focused on him and began moving towards him.

"Expecto Patronum," Harry said casually, the white mist coming from his hands, his wand not needed for the moment or even after all those Loops. The mist took the form of heads of stags, pinning the Dementors in.

"I had to use my wand the last time, otherwise I wouldn't have been able to force them into the bag," stated Harry with a smile, looking at the shocked visages of the Wizengamot. "Now then, Madam Bones, I do believe someone who is in charge of these buggers has been hiding some things from the Ministry."

"This … this changes nothing!" yelled Umbridge, worried her plans and actions would come out into the open. "You still used magic in front of a Muggle!"

"Squib, actually," stated Harry. "My cousin is a Squib. Even if he wasn't, he's a family member who is well aware of the magical world as he resides with my caregivers.

"Did you even assign people to investigate or did you just flip a coin on my circumstances?" asked Harry with a glare.

He continued, "I'll have you know I most certainly **did** investigate who in the Ministry could have done such a thing. Your name was at the top of that list, Madam Umbridge. I plan to turn over my notes to Madam Bones when this trial is through for her to continue to search for the Ministry traitor who figured to make a name for themselves by killing the Boy-Who-Lived."

"So you aren't making any outrageous claims that You-Know-Who was behind this?" cried Fudge, trying to salvage something of this mess. The trial was going nothing like Dolores and Lucius had claimed.

"Nah," waved off Harry. "He wants to kill me himself, otherwise no one would fear him. 'Oh sure, you killed hundreds, but you still can't kill a half-starved teen?'

"Which reminds me," he said, turning to Amelia again, "how goes the investigation of what Crouch Jr. stated under Veritaserum after he was exposed last semester?"

"Crouch Jr.?" asked Bones, looking towards the Minister. "Why is this the first I heard about him?"

Harry just shook his head. "Well, I see the Minister has been hiding things again. But anyway, since I have proven that I was indeed attacked by Dementors here," he said, waving towards the still circled creatures, showing no sign of stress at how much magic was needed to do such, "and thus was justified under the threat of imminent death clause, can we dismiss my case before you tear him a new one?"

Ah, how he lived for Loop moments like this. But he did have to hurry. Rita's blackmail was only good for the year, and he had so many stories for her to run.

* * *

**New Loop #11:**

Harry let his mind wander off as they advanced, Lupin doing his Boggart demonstration once more.

What did he fear now? It certainly wasn't Dementors, not for centuries.

Voldemort?

Nah, that guy was a cake-walk after several hundred years.

So what could he possibly fear after all this time? Death? Death was a joke for any Anchor. You wouldn't die until a Loop ended. And even then, Harry learned enough that he didn't fear passing into the next life. Ranma had taught him enough to be able to summon his powers beyond this world.

Besides, meeting actual Gods—well, Goddesses, really—made the whole point mute.

Then the Boggart took as form as Harry stepped in front of it. It even surprised Professor Lupin.

"Harry," said a kneeling Severus Snape, hand on Harry's shoulder, "I … am your father."

Harry's eyes went wide in fear, ignoring his first instinct to send a Killing Curse at the Boggart, he forced himself to say the right spell to negate a Boggart's power. "Riddikulus!" he shouted.

The Severus Snape the Boggart had assumed immediately developed breasts. "Actually, I loved your father more than anything. I … am your mother."

"NOOOOOOOOOO!" cried Harry.

"And young Draco … is your half-brother," the Boggart said calmly.

Harry hoped he could be forgiven when he immediately vaporized the creature and everything behind him, including a currently empty tower.

* * *

**New Loop #12:**

"A wonderful article, Luna," stated Harry, sitting beside the blond third-year Ravenclaw as they ate breakfast, the latest edition of the _Quibbler_ in their hands.

"Oh, thank you," she stated. "I'm sure all of our readers are enjoying the photos of the Crumple-Horned Snorkack."

Harry nodded. It was so nice to give Luna that book from the States. Apparently, it wasn't native to the Northern coast, but south Spain, a distant cousin to the American Jackolope.

Such a fun time now that he had experienced the Fused Loops. After that, it wasn't always a certain thing that he would end up at the start of his Hogwarts experience—even then, that could vary anywhere from plus or minus a month.

So starting in his Fourth Year on a Prime Loop—before the Loops started, what his life was before time started Looping—was a nice chance to vent.

And vent he did. In the latest edition of the _Quibbler_—aside from the story on the actual discovery of Norbert, the Crumple-Horned Snorkack and accompanying photos—was a nice interview with Harry via Luna Lovegood, ace reporter for the paper.

It was part of a series of seven—such a magically good number—that had Harry answering her questions—including some about her animals.

Harry was sure people would enjoy a spell that let you see fifteen degrees outside normal space-time into the world and thus finally witness the Nargles.. If they went further and saw the sub-dimension below, well that was hardly his fault.

The first edition had been his story behind his involvement in the Tournament as well as his rants about the yellow journalism in the Wizarding World. He felt the quote about how shameful it was that the Muggles had better laws on such things than the Wizarding World would hit quite a few elites hard.

_Just wait until the next one where I slam the Old Man's choices for DADA teachers…_ Ah, that would be so much fun.

"Wait," said one Ravenclaw nearby. "Those creatures were real?" she asked in shock.

"Oh yes," stated Harry, giving her a hooded glaze, knowing she was one of the ones who liked to hide Luna's stuff. "Funny though, I would have thought someone is Ravenclaw would have done the research to refute the claims of Luna here."

"Too true," nodded Luna. "But like Daddy says, not everyone can continue the search for the final truth." She paused a bit, before turning towards Harry. "It is very much like how they reacted to your inclusion in the Tri-Wizard tournament."

"Yes; me and Norbert do have more than our fair share of disbelievers," he commented.

"Well, I best be off before something Dark and Greasy this way skitters to take off house points," commented Harry, folding the paper and putting it in his back. The Runic puzzle was always a good brain teaser. "Luna, I shall see you later for our next interview. And do save me a dance at the Yule Ball, though don't quote me on anything as we dance."

"How is she getting to go?" asked a Second Year boy.

"Press pass," offered Harry. Hmm, perhaps he could offer her Colin as her photographer… Could make for some interesting photos for that dance: the many dancers of Harry Potter. He could send them to Sirius…

"Anyway, I'm off," he commented, as he gave Luna a parting hug. "Come see me anytime, Luna. Friends stick together," he finished, watching her smile grow as he stepped away. Ah, it was a good day.

"AAAAHHHHH! OH MY GOD! GET THEM AWAY FROM ME!"

"And that is why you don't use the spell to view more than twenty degrees out of phase of normal space-time," he commented as he headed for class. Oh well, not his problem.

* * *

**New Loop #13:**

"The wrapping okay?" asked Fourth Year Slytherin Harry Potter, finished with putting up the myriad of privacy spells he knew, several of which would confuse even Dumbledore or Snape if they decided to try to pierce them.

Tracy Davis nodded, trying not to blush at what Harry had seen of her nude form to heal her wounds from their Potion Class. "Malfoy will pay for this," she growled.

"Still, to be able to even accidentally surpass the safe guards we had in place to ensure such a thing didn't occur," Blaise Zabini muttered.

"You weren't the ones splashed by your potion," growled Daphne Greengrass, trying to ignore the itch in her wrapped arms. As with Tracy, Harry had also seen her partially undressed while he tended to their injuries. They could have gone to the Infirmary, but a true Slytherin never let others see them weakened.

It was a lesson Harry had learned when he was sorted into the House. Fortunately, for the ladies, he was also well versed and well stocked on medicinal charms, treatments, and other assorted necessaries. He had also sworn a Vow never to reveal anything he saw or treated, unless allowed by the other members of what had been called the Emerald Quartet.

The latest incident had happened right before the boisterous arrivals of the other schools for the tournament. Draco, wishing to once again strike at the Golden Trio—since Harry always ensured any strike at the Emerald Quartet was answered with unyielding pain—by launching a firework at their work for any number of reasons the blond pounce would offer if asked by the right people.

Sadly, for him, Harry had given Hermione a spell book last year for her birthday that included proper defensive spells to be used in a Potions Laboratory—spells which were oddly missing from any Potions syllabus in the last two hundred years at Hogwarts. As such, his projectile had been deflected off a shield charm around the front of her cauldron, into the air, and straight down into the cauldron of the two female members of the Emerald Quartet, miraculously through the one whole in that table shield charm that allowed potion fumes out.

The result had sprayed Tracy being the closest and Daphne with a good dose of half-finished potion. After being dismissed to ensure they made it to the Infirmary, they instead went to a mirror on the Fourth Floor, a collapsed tunnel to Hogsmeade where Harry had placed a magical tent to use for such occasions.

Now it was taking all of his Occulmency not to drift off into perverted thoughts at what he had seen while dressing their wounds. He probably would have been upset with himself, given that they were barely fourteen and he was older than Merlin thanks to the Loops. However, he consoled himself with the fact he was stuck in the body of a hormone driven teen, and thus moral ambiguity was not an issue.

"Oh, payback is already ready for them?" chuckled Harry, withdrawing three vials from his sleeve.

Blaise shook his head. "I swear you have three versions of payback always ready."

"Of course," chirped Harry. It did pay after all to have the Twins on a payroll. In addition, since he could give them some notes from previous Loops, their work only became more amazing.

Not that he planned to reveal his sources. That just wasn't done in Slytherin.

"So, what are they?" asked Tracy. "And how do you plan to get that shit to drink them?"

"Oh, ye of little faith," smirked Harry, as he unstoppered one vial, held it up, clenched his fist around it, and opened it, revealing the vial to now be gone.

"You vanished it into Malfoy?" asked Daphne, shock and awe in her voice.

Harry nodded. "And his two bookends," he replied, finishing with the other bottles. Closing his eyes, he concentrated, vanishing the glass from the stomachs of the three Slytherins, ensuring nothing could be traced back to him. Besides, the charms those vials would impart only needed a second to stabilize.

"So, what did you do?" asked Blaise, smirk on his face.

"Well, with a little help," he started, amazed at what promising to keep Dobby and Winky away for the summer had convinced the house elves to do, "Hogwarts will have a nice welcome for our guests."

"AHHH!" cried Malfoy, standing up as he started to twitch. His hair lengthened, his features softened, and his chest expanded, even as his robes shrank down into what many Muggleborn males would know as a string bikini. His two cohorts were soon responding likewise. As such, everyone missed when a banner unfolded above the head table, proclaiming it was the first ever Hogwarts Bikini competition.

Finally, the doors opened, allowing the Beauxbatons delegation in to witness the entire scene.

"Oh, you're good," smirked Tracy, very tempted to throw her friend on the table and snog the daylights out of him. Power and cunning were always big turn-ons for Slytherin females.


	9. Magical Time Loops 3

**Magical Loops 3**

Disclaimer: I don't own this series or any other series. I am just floating an idea. I am making no money, nor plan to, off this venture. If you think of suing me over this, then grow up.

I would like to first personally thank all of those reviewing my stories. I enjoy reading your comments, and try to correct the grammatical errors I miss with my final read-through as well as my spell checkers. The suggestions you all make will help make this story better for everyone to enjoy, as well as allow me to fix some plot holes I may unintentionally leave. If you find any, let me know, and I will correct them and repost the chapters.

* * *

This group is based on a Groundhog's Day concept, if time was looping, and certain members were aware of this.

These are their insanities.

* * *

**New Loop #1:**

The Rooms of Ambition and Cunning.

Nothing in history ever stated Slytherin was good at naming things. Chamber of Secrets? Really, that was the best idea he had.

Anyway, as the name suggested, it was a row of dorms set to inspire Ambition and Cunning in the students. After all, who wouldn't love a dorm room by themselves? A big room? One with a cooling unit filled by house elves with whatever beverage and food you wanted? Personal bathing and potion facilities?

Rooms Twenty through One, each one better than the last, awaited a Slytherin to claim them. Each contained their own ward stone; each set up to be protected by the cunning of the Slytherin to acquire them, or get past the wards set up by the Slytherin occupying them. The goal was to inspire the main traits of Slytherin House by giving them a reason to expand themselves and their abilities.

For a Looper, it was a piece of cake. Hell, his wards didn't kill you.

They embarrassed you.

Well, no more than the male Slytherin 7th Year Prefect who woke up on the couch in the common room, wondering who had forced him out of Room One.

That was right, someone had forced a Slytherin who had worked his way up to that room, whose wards had turned away the best of those who came after him, had taken that room from him.

Moreover, it was a First Year.

"Return my room, Potter," growled said Prefect, wand pointed at the First Year.

Harry sighed. One would think they had learned their lesson from the beginning night. After all, as every time he was a Hufflepuff he ended up conquering the world, every time he was a Slytherin, they always attacked him within the first few days, that they would know such an assault would fail.

Then again, Slytherin wasn't known for the highly intelligent. "I took it fair and square."

"Do you have any idea what I went through to get that room?"

"Do you have any idea how little I care?" asked Harry neutrally. "If you don't like it, kick me out. Hell, I'm sure Snape would help you."

"You took over Room One?" asked Blaise.

Harry nodded.

"Intriguing," muttered Blaise as he returned to the book he had been reading.

"So help me…" growled the Prefect.

"I undid your wards, moved you and your stuff out, and you didn't know until you woke up. I also dealt with a third of this House when they ambushed me a few days ago.

"Do you really think I fear you?" growled Harry.

"You don't have a wand out," smirked the teen.

"And do you think that makes me more or less dangerous?" asked Harry. "After all, I could be excellent at wandless magic? I could actually have it out and disillusioned. I might even have a paid man under an invisibility cloak ready to deal with the next back stabber."

The Prefect snorted. "Like I'll believe that."

"Really?" came a gruff adult voice from behind the Prefect.

Eyes wide, he turned quickly, ready to face Potter's hidden man.

He immediately regretted it as he found himself silenced and bound by steel chains.

Slipping his wand back into his wrist holster, Harry stood above the bound Prefect. There hadn't been anyone behind him, no hidden man, but a nice wandless spell to make the Prefect think so. "Learn a lesson Voldemort learned the hard way," sneered Harry, looking down at the angry teen. "Don't fuck with Harry Potter. I **am** just that good, believe it." The last bit made him wince, as if he had spoken a forbidden phrase.

"Now if you'll excuse me, dinner is starting soon, and I find myself a bit famished. Should anyone actually bother to release you, I shall see you there."

As he strode away, he wondered how long before the boy got free and how much complaining he would give to their Head of House to try to force him out of the room some other way. He was betting a few hours and one sentence, respectively.

In addition, if Snape helped… Well, he had added a nice ward scheme to that stone to deal specifically with anyone bearing a Dark Mark.

Now, he just needed to acquire a way to get some liquor before Dobby's arrival in his life. He was going to need some serious alcohol to make it through this first year again.

* * *

**New Loop #2:**

James Potter was one of four members of a group at Hogwarts known for their pranks.

However, Harry felt at many times that he should always be able to outdo his father. After all, how many Dark Lords had his father ever defeated/killed/driven insane? None.

How many had Harry? Lots. Sure, they were all the same person. Nevertheless, it still counted.

But as always, Harry wanted to improve on his work, find new ways to do things, new avenues to explore, if for nothing else than to stave off boredom.

Moreover, one of those ways was 'messing with Voldie'.

"Any last words to say, Potter?" hissed Voldemort, fresh from dressing down his loyal Death Eaters and being reborn.

"Oh yes," Harry said quietly, pumping some magic into his eyes to pull off the proper effect, forming a familiar sneer on his face as he raised his wand towards Voldemort. "I find your hospitality lacking, dear **brother**.

"_Avada Kedavra_!" he hissed, launching a Killing Curse at the Dark Lord.

Voldemort actually looked surprised as he dove out of the way, survival instincts kicking in, even as Harry launched a curse only Riddle had created to 'torture' his enemies.

"Looking so surprised, dear brother," Harry stated with arrogance. "Did you really think your ritual wouldn't have had **other** consequences?

"And look, your dear Nagini now feels … burdened by something. Why, I think that means she is number seven, which brings your total to eight with you included.

"I'm curious, will that mean when I dispatch you that I need not fear your return?"

"What are you!?" demanded Voldemort, getting back up, power flaring outwards.

Harry just smiled as he gave an exaggerated bow. "I believe the Muggle phrase is: I'm Lord Voldemort, bitch," he stated, wand made at the ready. "And I told our dear brothers before I dispatched them too with the Old Fool's help, I simply don't share my power.

"Now be a good soul bit and **DIE!!!**

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

The best thing he decided was the look on the faces of the surrounding Death Eaters, unsure of whom to support. Harry had after all, been planning this prank since his First Year.

* * *

**New Loop #3:**

_Slytherin Harry…_

"You do know that your … pet will only convince more people you are the Heir of Slytherin," commented Blaise, as the Emerald Quartet set down for breakfast, Harry's spells in effect to give them privacy.

"True in a way," commented Harry, petting the serpent wrapped around his shoulders. "The last heir was the son of the Gaunt line, who died trying to slaughter me. So in a way, I could claim it."

"What is that thing, anyway?" asked Tracey.

"A coatl," replied Harry. "Light serpent from South America. Think a snake-version of the Phoenix. Ancient locals worshipped them, even named a sun god after them, Quetzalcoatl."

"Phoenix-like?" murmured Daphne. "I take it that was the flash of light that removed the serpent Malfoy summoned during the Dueling Club."

Harry nodded.

"And the source of your extra supplies," smirked Blaise. "I wondered how you got those items into school past the detectors."

"Also how I got the real Slytherin's pet out of here."

"Really?" asked Tracey. "So you could control it because you killed the Dark Lord?"

"You could say that," Harry replied in a tease. Not like he was going to admit just **how** he got that ability.

"How long exactly have you had him?" asked Daphne.

"Summer break," offered Harry.

"And how does one go about acquiring a coatl?" asked Blaise.

"Travel to South America, find their locations, and wait for one to judge you worthy of their companionship. They can't be caught, can't be forced, and can't be intimidated except by angry white owls who don't like their attempts at flirting." Oh, that had been quite the scene when the coatl had tried to what Harry assumed was flirt with Hedwig.

"I thought the Headmaster had you under lock and key," stated Daphne.

"Oh, he'd like to believe that," replied Harry. "But really, the wards are more for my relatives, who quite frankly I think could use the scare. Besides, I find my Fidelius-protected properties are the best at keeping me safe from Death Eaters and busybody old men. Why, I have two new basilisks to keep me safe."

"Two?" stuttered Tracey in shock.

Harry just nodded. "Seemed old Salazar had a small basilisk pen in his Chamber. If one wandered off, he had the Chamber set up to release another egg from a stasis charm, feed it some aging potion, and have it hear a speech he recorded in parseltongue. I wondered how that cat got petrified when I took the basilisk away before the middle of September," he said, smiling a bit. Luckily, the potion had done no lasting damage to the young basilisk, and now he had two of opposite genders. Could he actually breed them without using a rooster or a toad? It wasn't like they could kill each other. There had been plenty of water in the Chamber to see its reflection and it still moved around.

Well, if not, he had ninety-eight other eggs to work with. Slytherin had been very thorough in ensuring a basilisk would always live in the Chamber. Harry had had to disable no less than forty-seven wards and such just to get to the Hatchery within the statue. Hell, feeding them wasn't an issue. He had several dozen small orbs fluttering about the Forbidden Forest, latching onto random Acromantulas and portkeying them into his den at his Southern England property, which had a lovely set of caves the snakes lived in.

Well, Aragog could always have more. And perhaps Harry did carry a bit of resentment for the old spider's first meeting with them.

"So no more petrifactions?" asked Blaise, seeming almost sad.

"Oh, quit pouting," snorted Tracey.

"I was hoping Malfoy would get it," he grumbled.

"Or at least Weasley," sighed Daphne. "Seriously, is he the only one without a brain among those children?"

"Well, he did want to be known for something none of his brothers had done," offered Harry. "I take it I missed something after I dealt with the snake and left?"

"Oh, he insisted you were the Heir and that had been absolute proof," offered Daphne.

"Well…"

"Yes we know; true in a way," groused Tracey. "I just wish I knew who had opened that Chamber?"

Harry just smirked as he imagined the smoking diary in his trunk. A blood quill could be useful at times. Moreover, all it had cost him was giving Ginny a kiss and the book was his.

Now, he just needed to figure a way to use it free Dobby, get Lucius Malfoy removed from the Board of Governors, and come off looking even better than before.

He was a Slytherin after all, a certain image needed to be maintained.

* * *

**New Loop #4:**

"_So, Potter," started the Hat, having peered into his mind, "which house would you like to try for __**this**__ Loop?"_

_Harry paused for a moment. Lately, he had been focusing mainly on the mainstay Houses: Gryffindor and Slytherin. Perhaps it was time for a change, one no one would expect._

_"Very well, then," the Sorting Hat replied, as it opened its mouth and shouted, "HUFFLEPUFF!"_

* * *

_And to think, because of that, this happened,_ thought Harry, as he looked around. Currently, he was sitting on a throne, the room done in the colors of his new House. Across from him, divided into three sections, were the forces his 'Loyalists' had defeated. To his left were the bound masses of the Ministry. The middle held the Death Eaters, Voldemort at the front bound twice as much as the others. In fact, many of the Ministry's captured were shaking in fear, with Fudge demanding in a scared voice that the charade be dropped.

And finally on the right were the bound forces of the Order of the Phoenix.

Oh, how could he forget that surrounding the Chamber were his Loyalists, as his mainly Hufflepuff army insisted on being called. Sure, the other Houses were included, but they had joined for their own reasons—reasons that had checked out or they would have been Obliviated and likely joined one of the other groups before him.

A door of to his right side opened, allowing a smiling Luna to enter, holding a covered tray with what he knew were the Horcruxes, as she made her way to him. It was after all supposed to be the final nail in Tom's mental coffin.

"You shall die, slowly, begging for your pitiful existence," hissed Voldemort.

"Harry, you need not continue along this path," spoke Dumbledore, his voice more 'grandfatherly' than Harry had ever heard before. "You have captured Tom, proven to the Ministry that he has returned, you need not continue along this dark path."

"You'll pay for this, Potter!" bellowed Fudge. "The Dementors! You will be receiving the Kiss for this!"

"Can we kill him first?" complained Parvati Patil, kneeling at his left, mirroring her sister's stance on his right.

Sexy twin personal assassins, gotta love 'em.

"Later," stated Harry.

"I knew you were evil!" bellowed Ron from the bound Order. "I told you! I told you that someone that good at Quidditch who refused to play had to be evil!"

"Oh, for the love of Merlin, shut up, Ron!" yelled Hermione. "It was your sister who sold us out to him!"

"He brainwashed her!"

"Oh yeah," drawled Ginny from the sidelines. "Morgana forbid I do things of my own right." It was only the fact she didn't want to ruin Harry's show that she didn't hit him with a Bat-Boogey Hex.

Sighing at the drama that he knew for a fact would come out if he left those before him keep ranting, Harry waved his wand, the sparks gathering their attention. "First off, I will deal with Tom."

"How dare you call me that filthy name!"

"Well, you murdered my parents and tried to kill me several times. I really don't give a flying fuck what you want."

"HARRY POTTER!" screamed Molly.

He waved his wand at her silencing her. "By the way, did I show you my newest collections?" he asked, removing the sheet.

Tom's eyes went wide, his snake-like skin paled slightly—which was impressive considering his normally pale complexion—as he looked at his 'precious soul containers'. His eyes narrowed as he didn't see Nagini. Perhaps Potter had missed it?

"Oh Luna, are you enjoying your new snake-skin boots?" asked Harry, smirking as Tom's face fell further.

"Oh, quite well," replied Luna.

"Yep, you're quite mortal, Tom," replied Harry, as he slid on the remaining items. The ring seemed to hum a bit, as he felt its power resonate with his cloak and the Elder Wand, pilfered from Albus when the Order had been captured. It didn't feel right to possibly end a Loop without reuniting the Hallows. "Not that I plan to kill you. I plan to have you get to personally experience the Dementors. But if you ask nicely, I'm sure one will be willing to give a little Kiss.

"But you won't be alone," he continued. "After all, you'll have your stooges sharing cells with you, Ministry lapdogs, and the ones of the Order who had no trouble sending a defenseless kid to be abused by amoral relatives. I'm sure you'll have oh so much to talk about." _Plus, I can't exactly have the Loop end early if they're crying in Azkaban._

"It was for the Greater Good," sadly replied Dumbledore.

"Yes, a good catch-all," replied Harry. "I notice you didn't add to whom that Greater Good is for."

Taking a deep breath, Harry returned to his throne—why the Loyalists insisted he have it, he had no clue. "My followers, please take them away. But don't worry, Former Minister of Magic, unlike that sham you perpetrated for my Godfather, I'll ensure you don't spend more than a few months with them before I give you a trial.

"And unlike your trials, you'll actually have a chance to get released from mine."

"You'll pay for this, you filthy halfblood!" bellowed Umbridge.

"Such poor language," mused Harry. "I'm sure the Dementors will want to talk repeatedly to you about that.

"Take them away," he commanded lightly.

"Whoops," smirked Cedric, as the former Minister 'stumbled' and fell to the floor.

Hufflepuffs: never betray them. There was a reason a Dementor never made a move against Harry.

"So, what now?" he asked.

"Oh, I know!" chirped Luna.

"We're not invading Oz," Harry replied.

"Aww, why not?" she asked.

"Because then we might miss the celebration party at Hogwarts." Smiling, he stood up again, smoothing out his robes. "After all, it isn't every year you deal a crushing blow to the old standards. Besides, the French and American ambassadors for the Magical World will be there, even with some books I requested for you."

"Oh goody!" cheered Luna, as she did a pirouette and made her way towards their barracks.

"So what now, my Lord?" asked Padma.

Harry tilted his head to the side. "I think I need a shower before we go to the party."

"You're just saying that because there will be Veela there," pouted Parvati.

"No, it is because I smell like shit," he complained, pointing at the spot where the prisoners had been placed. "Apparently, neither group was too happy about awaiting for their trial with the Dementors." Oh well, at least the House Elves would be happy to have something to clean.

"Well," said Padma, her nose twitching in disgust, "my dear sister always said the Dark Lord was full of it. I think he lost half his body mass right there."

Harry just nodded. Say what you would, but overall, his first Loop as a Hufflepuff wasn't going badly at all.

* * *

**New Loop #5:**

The sounds of the Great Hall were many, each one telling a story about something that had happened to the person that day, that week, that life, or to someone else.

Common stories.

This of course, didn't mean they all did not go silent when the entrance began to glow, before slowly restoring itself to a mirror, whole and fitting snuggly in the entrance.

"Bloody hell," muttered Ron, before he turned towards his twin brothers. "You two?" he asked.

"Not us," stated one.

"Not wild enough," muttered the other.

"Bad show," the finished together.

The amazement and confusion changed again as the reflective surface shimmered, replacing the image of the Great Hall with a mountain meadow, complete with a couple of small children walking towards what appeared to be the boundary of the mirror. One was wearing the familiar Hogwarts Robes while the other, a blond female, was wearing a blue dress with a white apron.

"Is that … Harry?" asked Hermione, approaching the mirror.

"Please step away, Ms. Granger," stated Dumbledore, as the teachers gathered around it, prepared for whatever weird magic was before them.

No sound came from the other side of the mirror, though all could see the blond girl and Harry speaking, before she passed him a small sack and proceeded to peck him on the cheek. Acting in a way to signal they were saying goodbye, Harry approached the barrier, a barrier no one had even tried to touch on the Hogwarts side.

Finally, he stepped as if he was about to run into the mirror, but the solid surface rippled like water, as he slowly emerged back into the castle, his body growing to his proper age as he crossed the threshold.

"Ah, nothing like Looking Glass cake before dinner," smiled Harry.

"Mr. Potter!" bellowed Professor McGonagall. "What is this?"

Blinking, Harry turned around, waving once again to the blond who reacted with a smile. "If I were to take a guess, I would have to say … a magic mirror."

"Quite right, my dear boy," interrupted Dumbledore, trying to keep his Deputy from launching into a tirade. "But to where?"

"Well, right now, Alice's domain," he replied.

"You mean Alice as in Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass?" asked Hermione. "You mean they are real?"

"Oh yes," said Harry, as he opened his new bag, revealing a small evil-looking egg. "Even got me a Jabberwock egg."

"Jabberwock?" asked Ron, noticing Hermione paling. Like many of the purebloods, he had no clue what those books were or what said creature was.

"How… How could you steal such a thing?" yelled Hermione.

"I didn't steal it," stated Harry. "I got it from one in exchange for something," he finished, putting the egg away and tapping the mirror's surface with his wand.

The surface rippled once more, replacing the meadow with a dank cave, something large and scaly beside the threshold.

"She just wanted a few friends to play with," he finished, stepping away as the beast's hand quickly passed through the mirror and clutched Snape. "She's been ever so lonely."

* * *

**New Loop #6:**

_Oh yeah,_ he sarcastically spoke inside his mind. _Privet Drive, home sweet hell._

As many Anchors could tell you, there were always certain points you were more likely to 'awaken' in than others. For Ranma, it was a microsecond before a Stop Sign struck the base of his skull. For Naruto, it was usually in the classroom when he was assigned to a team.

For Harry Potter, it was the cupboard under the stairs.

However, unlike many of those times, he was not alone.

In the small cot, his body was holding that of a small girl. The poor light coming from the door showed just enough that he could determine she had red hair.

Moreover, the sudden pressure on his arm told him she had one hell of a grip.

"You have three seconds to tell me who you are before I rip this arm off and beat you to death with it."

Well, he had to admit, she did have a redhead's temper. "Harry James Potter.

"Now you have three seconds to tell me who you are before I crack the base of your skull with my head."

He could almost feel a smugness coming from her. "Rose Lily Potter."

"Ah," he said. "Potter tradition mixed with Evans tradition. I take it you hear 'you resemble your mother like a mirror, but you got your father's eyes'."

He could hear her giggle at those words.

"The opposite for you?"

"Yep," replied Harry. "Looping?"

"Yep," replied Rose. "Boy-Who-Lived?"

"Sadly, yes," replied Harry. "Guess that means in this Loop, we're the Children-Who-Lived."

"Man, Riddle is falling apart," she replied with a mock laugh. Her demeanor turned serious for a second. "I wonder how much of our lives are together."

"Big D? Dudley?"

"Daisy, my obese cousin," offered Rose.

"Vernon and Petunia?"

"Same for me."

"Thank Merlin, I'd rather have one mentally scarring sight per Loop if I can," he replied.

They stayed silent for a moment, trying to enjoy it. Soon, they wouldn't have the peace, the quiet, the freedom from what Fate would demand they do.

"Just don't be interested in Ron, please!" Harry begged.

"Who is Ron?"

"… Well, this will be an interesting year," groused Harry.

"Oh, there is this one Weasley girl in my year named Rebecca…"

"I already hate this Loop."

* * *

**New Loop #7:**

"Why are we waiting out here, Potter?" asked Blaise.

Harry just smirked, sitting on the front steps to Hogwarts. Reaching into his robe, he pulled out three necklaces. "Oh, thought you might want to see what is happening soon."

"Oh?" asked Blaise, sitting down and holding out his hand.

Harry slipped the necklace into Blaise's hands. "A nice little false defense against Legilimency," Harry said. "It'll make it look like you got a good shield, and it will let you know if someone is trying to scan you."

"Nice," smirked the tanned Slytherin, putting it on. "Why two more?"

"Because Daphne and Tracey followed you here," smirked Harry.

"We did not!" yelled Tracey, before blushing as Daphne drug her from behind the column.

"Hand them over and start talking," growled Daphne.

Smiling while doing so, Harry continued. "In a few minutes, a very enjoyable scene will play out, in which a puppet master will learn that his plan is not going as he thought."

"How so?" asked Daphne.

"Well, remember that whole tale about the third floor corridor being off limits?"

Seeing the three nod, Harry continued. "Well, seems our esteemed Headmaster was hiding Flamel's stone past that room behind the most pathetic of protections one could imagine."

"Right," snorted Daphne, sounding as if she didn't believe one word he spoke.

"A Cerberus, Devil's Snare, a chess board, flying keys, a logic riddle, a troll, and the Mirror of Erised," Harry supplied.

Even Blaise's eyes widened at that. "So obviously this confirms the man is quite insane. Go on."

"Well, seems old Voldie didn't quite die and had been possessing our stuttering Defense teacher for the last few months."

"Forget insane," snorted Daphne. "I can't recall a word for such a sheer amount of stupidity." Her tone now spoke of believing Harry, as during the year, he had impressed on her the difference between his whimsies and his truths.

Tracey nodded her head in agreement. You-Know-Who ran around the school for months, and the supposed Leader of the Light had done nothing to stop it? It did present some interesting material to hold onto, probably why Potter had handed out those necklaces.

"And all in some plan to arrange a nice little confrontation between me and the Dark Dork," snorted Harry.

"And the stone?" asked Tracey.

"Oh, I returned that to Flamel months ago," waved off Harry.

Seeing their eyes wide in shock once again, Harry chuckled. "Do you have any idea the sort of pull that got me with Flamel? I'm as good as an heir to him now. And if I play my cards right, I can probably learn to make my own stone.

"Besides, I don't need gold at the moment. And whatever I learn from them can be used to further my career, not that much could be done to enhance the Boy-Who-Lived image, mind you."

"You mean aside from the skills you used to acquire Room 1?" asked Blaise with a smirk.

"But why are we out here?" asked Tracey.

Smirking, Harry turned towards the entrance, the closest point between the main doorway of Hogwarts and the anti- Apparition wards. "Because I laid a few wards myself while I was down there. And when I set them off when old Stutter went down there, it flagged Dumbles that apparently, I followed," he spoke, looking at his watch. "Which means he should be showing up here to begin his 'dramatic rescue right about … now."

**Pop!**

Dumbledore Apparated before them, rushing towards the castle, before slowing down, spotting Harry and the three other Slytherins. "Harry?" he asked, eyes wide.

"Yes, sir?" asked the last Potter, looking as innocent as a Slytherin could.

"I … I have to go, but I do hope we can chat later today if possible."

"I would love to, Headmaster," Harry nodded before turning to face his friends again. "Anyway, as I was saying…"

The rest didn't need to be said as Dumbledore quickly strode past them, making his way deeper into Hogwarts, hoping to arrive in time to stop Voldemort.

"Priceless," smirked Blaise, fingering his necklace.

"Wish I had a camera," smiled Daphne.

"My dad owns a pensieve," offered Tracey.

And thus, the Emerald Quartet was born.

* * *

**New Loop #8:**

"Ah, Harry, might I have a word of your time?"

The Boy-Who-Looped lowered his sunglasses, glad that the Headmaster had at least not chosen to stand with the sun behind him. Though sometimes one never knew with a drama queen like him. "Sure, Headmaster. Have a seat. I think I have a soda or two in the cooler if you're thirsty."

"Thank you," said the aged wizard, sitting down after conjuring a blanket to sit upon. "Now Harry, do you know why I am here?"

"Nude beach in France; I have several ideas, sir," smirked Harry, noticing some Veela his age playing in the surf. _God bless whatever scrubs my brain so I don't feel so icky looking at them._

_Hmm, better start studying some psychology books to make sure I'm not developing something._

"Ah, the joys of youth," commented Dumbledore. "But alas, I am here to escort you back to your home."

"Hell no," growled Harry. "Do you know how much I paid for this trip?"

"I dare say your safety is of more concern than a few pieces of gold."

"Says you," replied Harry. "Besides, I fail to see the logic in me suffering with the Dursleys simply because you failed to properly clean up the mess you left behind."

"I'm afraid that the Wizarding World is slow in doing what is needed to be done."

"Like how Hogwarts is so safe, a troll and a killer teacher can enter with the wraith of a madman," calmly offered Harry. "That's why I've been looking into a few other schools. There is one here and France and I got an offer from Salem to be part of their program to make the school co-ed."

Albus blinked. How had Harry gotten such letters? The mail wards on Privet Drive were very specific on just what was allowed in to reach Harry.

"I was able to get Susan Bones to ask her Aunt to look over my home, ensure everything was made for my benefit. She seemed appalled that somehow half those wards were set up like that." Oh, he knew what was now causing the Headmaster to pale like that. For the Greater Good may ease one's mind, didn't mean the Law would give you a pass, especially from an angry ginger who blamed you for her dead family members.

"I'm afraid we may have gone overboard in providing you security," offered the Headmaster, wondering how Harry had become so knowledgeable of their world so quickly.

"Yeah, save me from the outside, leave me on my own on the inside," Harry spat back. "You know, if my Aunt didn't love her son, I wonder if those wards would have survived a year."

"You seem to have done much research about this."

"What with my poor social skills and having Hermione as a friend, I had a lot of free time other than solving your riddle."

Albus nodded, wondering how this would play into things.

"And considering that I have over a decade's worth or finances to go through next week, I want to enjoy my vacation."

"But the blood wards must be maintained for your safety," offered Albus.

"And how do they save me from my relatives?" asked Harry. "Or them getting me via Muggle ways?

"It doesn't," Harry replied, opening a bottle of water. "The only thing my current home life does is stress me out. Don't know why you left that glaring hole in my protection, don't care." Actually, he did, thanks to Albus's always heart-wrenching confessions during whatever event would make him doubt Harry's willingness to continue Hogwarts. For all he knew, the man was probably planning something like that, as the landscape was way too public for simple memory eraser and removal.

Nevertheless, that was for another time. The last Loop had been particularly annoying, and a nice vacation after being stuck at Hogwarts for a school year was needed.

Besides, there was a nice hospital near there that had excellent service and medical staff from the West. Best tasting potions he ever had. They had even gotten him some potions and spells to correct his sight.

Salem was looking better and better, plus he would have an extra Loop to brush up on his French for attending Beauxbatons. And a few years in America was bound to create some new things for him. You could after all only go through the same seven years of Hogwarts without going insane from boredom. Luckily, the Loop's cutoff point was defaulted to somewhat past the ending of his Seventh Year or Tom's Death, whichever came first. "I hope you have better arguments for wanting me to cut my vacation short than that, sir."

Dumbledore sighed. Harry could tell the man was considering several plans, at least one likely involved calling in the Old Guard to stun, Obliviate, and send him home. "Then I shall prepare a better case, since you refuse to trust my judgment."

Harry shrugged, already making plans to grab a Portkey out of the country. _I wonder how much one to Salem will cost me?_

_Hell, I wonder what all Salem can offer me?_ "You can try, sir. But it is a hard decision I will have to make in the end."

"And your friends, Harry? Will you leave them behind?"

Harry shrugged again. "Blame my piss-poor upbringing," he waved off as Dumbledore stood and left.

Shaking his head, he waved for one of the resort's beach attendants to come to him.

"Can I help you, sir?" she asked in accented English.

"Yes, tell the manager that I will be needing to leave early and in about a few hours, I'll be needing a taxi to take me into town."

"Very well, young sir," she said with a smile, before moving back to her station to place the call.

Shaking his head, he grabbed his gear to return to his room, hoping the wards he had put up were still powered, to avoid an ambush. "Funny how the old man didn't mention a certain rat finding its way into Moody's hands," he sighed, entering the lobby. Luckily, a Memeory Strand of his interrogation was already on its way to the French and American Magical Aurors, as well as the enforcement wing of the ICW. With any luck, soon Sirius would be with him at Salem, chasing Veela soccer moms.

He could always ask the Salem Headmistress to invite the Weasley family. Forge and Gred would certainly love that. And they were bound to offer scholarships for such inventive young men to boost the standing of going co-ed.

"Some fucking vacation," he mumbled. Maybe this was why adults drank…

* * *

**New Loop #9:**

As the students sat down to enjoy dinner with the other schools invited for the Tri-wizard Tournament, the air grew steadily thicker with anticipation. Soon, the Goblet of Fire would spit out the names of those involved in the tournament.

**FWOOSH!**

Therefore, it could then be understood that a large amount of people shrieked in shock when a pillar of fire appeared at the other end of the Great Hall, revealing a giant red bird sitting on the shoulder of … a very familiar figure that had large wings sprouting from his back.

"Whoa, so that's what Bursting is like for you," muttered Harry, trying to maintain his balance. Not that Fawkes was heavy, but he was still feeling a bit disoriented from the newest form of magical transport he had experienced.

The phoenix trilled for a bit, its face almost smiling, or at least as close as a phoenix could.

"I am not a lightweight," growled Harry. "You know I suck at this sort of thing on the first try."

"HARRY!"

"Yes, Hermione?" asked the winged Boy-Who-Lived, trying to pop his ears. Man, she was loud.

"What happened?" asked the female member of the Golden Trio, looking over his wings.

"Potions accident while working with Fawkes," Harry replied with a smile. He didn't know where Shinji had gotten the 'splicing technology' from or who the Dr. Able Cuvier was the notes talked about, but apparently it worked well in this reality, and even with magical DNA.

Fawkes chirped for several seconds before vanishing in a plume of fire, which coincidentally allowed him to leave right before the trio of school Heads arrived beside Harry.

"Harry! What have you done?" gasped Dumbledore.

"Just a little potions accident with phoenix DNA," replied Harry, flexing his wings. Hell, apparently whatever allowed Fawkes to look at a Basilisk and survive apparently cured Harry's eyes.

Of course, he had neglected to consider what muscle changes might have occurred. Nearly crushed his bits when he changed. In addition, he didn't feel up to seeing if he was now immortal, just to test out the full limits of the mutagen.

"You 'ave become part phoenix," gasped Olympe Maxime, looking over his feathers. "'Ow is this possible?"

"Magic," smirked Harry, before bursting into flame, appearing at his usual spot at the Gryffindor table.

"If you'll excuse me, I'm very hungry. Apparently, becoming part phoenix and busting about the place takes a lot of energy, and I require sustenance."

"But Harry?" cried Hermione, making her way quickly back to the table.

"Questions later, tasty food now," stated Harry.

"But—"

"No."

"Harry James Potter!"

Harry just gave her an evil eye. "Do I have to transport you to the library to have a moment to eat?"

"I'm afraid that will have to wait until Madam Pomfrey examines you, and you will hand your notes over to Professor Snape to determine what happened to you and how to reverse it," Dumbledore stated.

"… No, I'm eating first," stated Harry, as he dug into his roast—the fried chicken didn't seem as attractive as it once did for some odd reason. Moreover, why was it they always wanted to rush him off to the hospital wing? All she would do was feed him nasty potions, complain how he was never careful, and require him to stay three days longer than he needed.

"Arrogant, just like his father," sneered Snape.

"I prefer stubborn, like my mother," Harry replied with an innocent smile.

"Mr. Potter, I must insist," stated Dumbledore.

"Can you not control your students?" sneered Karkaroff.

"Can't you get that cheery little reminder of your youth off your arm?" Harry asked back.

Next time he did this; he was taking his meal in the Room of Requirements and have Dobby bring it to him. A man just couldn't eat in peace anymore in this school.

* * *

**New Loop #10:**

I remember a man I sometimes kindly refer to as the Twinkling Bastard had once said: "Magic is a wonderful and mysterious thing."

Of course, they kindly forgot to mention the other things magic offered: such as Dragon Pox, angry trolls, Unforgiveable curses, and Draco Malfoy.

Sighing, I turned, my wand flicking about, as the summoned toad-demon collapsed in a fit of screams.

"You know, all of evil morons are all the same," I spoke. "All you do is try and grab power, get a few idiots under your control, and the next thing you know, you think the world should bow before you."

"ARRRRRGH!" cried the insane lunatic, as he charged towards me, his evil mind somewhat forgetting just how outclassed he really was.

My spin-kick to his gut hopefully reminded him.

"Now then," I added, using _Aguamenti_ to douse the fire nearby, "drugs are bad, Mmkay. And drugs hurt people, Mmkay."

"Who … who are you?" the man hissed out.

I couldn't help but put on a smile that would have impressed Lockhart. "My name is Harry Potter, Wizard; I'm in the phone book."

Merlin help me, I was stuck in Dresden's universe, with one thought currently on my mind: when would this universe's Snape show up to ruin my day?

"Potter!" yelled Warden Morgan, blasting through a wall and reigniting the blaze.

"You can play with him now." I almost felt pity for Victor Sells.

Almost, he was a mystic drug-dealing psycho who had tried to kill me with a spell and a lock of my hair.

Amateur. Even Draco could have 'pwned' this guy. But considering a Hogwarts education, it might be a close call for Crabbe or Goyle.

"I knew you were involved, Potter," sneered Morgan.

Whoops, forgot about Dresden's Snape for a moment. But after all these Loops, I was used to tuning out crazy people. "Fine, you deal with the dark wizard and his two gun-toting friends, as well as the fire you graciously reignited, that is burning towards what looks like unstable chemicals, and I shall go home, get some sleep, maybe catch a movie.

"And when I see the White Council next, I'll be certain to explain how once again, Don Quixote—that's you, Morgan—once again sees dark wizards everywhere and actually cost us the opportunity to learn how Vic here learned to do all this."

Ah, there was the throbbing vein in the forehead that I always loved creating. This Loop did have its good points: over twenty-one, a magic skull, and the Dresden-Snape never bothered me more than once a month.

Now if I could only get Murphy's number…


	10. Magical Time Loops 4

**Magical Loops 4**

Disclaimer: I don't own this series or any other series. I am just floating an idea. I am making no money, nor plan to, off this venture. If you think of suing me over this, then grow up.

I would like to first personally thank all of those reviewing my stories. I enjoy reading your comments, and try to correct the grammatical errors I miss with my final read-through as well as my spell checkers. The suggestions you all make will help make this story better for everyone to enjoy, as well as allow me to fix some plot holes I may unintentionally leave. If you find any, let me know, and I will correct them and repost the chapters.

* * *

This group is based on a Groundhog's Day concept, if time was looping, and certain members were aware of this.

These are their insanities.

* * *

**New Loop #1:**

"Um … are you two okay?" asked Harry, staring at his original best friends, now First Years, pointing wands at him.

"We won't let you do it again, Potter," snarled Ron.

"How could you?" yelled Hermione. "You were a good guy! Why would you become a Dark Lord?"

Harry winced at that. Good news: Ron and Hermione were awake.

Bad news: apparently they only had the memories of the last Loop, which meant they only recalled him as the Dark Lord Potter, who conquered most of Asia and Africa, all of Europe, and had been making inroads into the Americas.

That … was not good. "You really don't want to hit me with any spells," said Harry doubting they would believe he had no idea what they were talking about.

"And why not?" asked Ron, pushing his wand barely an inch from Harry's head.

Sighing, the Anchor quickly reacted, shoving Ron's wand away, using the redhead as a shield from Hermione's stunning spell, as he used wandless magic to disarm her and force her against the cabin wall. "Because you will force me to hurt you."

"Please … you don't have to be evil!" gasped Hermione.

"Oh for the love of… I'm not evil!" yelled Harry, grabbing their wands and using his own to _Ennervate_ Ron. "If I was, you'd be dead."

"We won't stop, Potter!" yelled Ron. "We won't let you destroy the world again!"

"Oh, shut up, Ronald," growled Hermione. "Stop giving him reasons to kill us!"

Harry just shook his head. Would this be what those who 'awoke' would act like? Would they only remember the last Loop?

Then again, he guessed he should be glad Ron didn't remember the Loop where Harry had a harem of every of-age and non-old female and he had been turned into a eunuch. "Great, now I have to talk to Peorth! Do you have any idea how badly that could end?" he asked, recalling Saotome's own chats about how Skuld had reacted. Of course, he hoped to avoid that, what with Peorth being a Goddess of Moments and not the future, which could be seen as eternally fucked up thanks to the Loops.

"Well, maybe I can ask her to restore your Prime Loop memories."

"What the hell are you blathering about?" demanded Ron.

Harry merely arched his eyebrow. Was this the same Ron he had been friends with in First Year? However, it definitely felt like the Ron who in one Loop, Harry had killed with an _Avada Kedavra_ because the boy wouldn't stop snoring.

Yeah, still had been **so** worth it. "Hermione, consider the fact that with a Timer Turner like you used in Third Year, there is a magic that can control time."

"Okay," she said, still holding Ron back.

"Now assume there is a mistake in such magic, one that causes time to Loop, constantly repeating, no matter what you do. Doesn't matter which path you take, in the end, you will always end it after a certain point and start right back at the beginning, on a big red train, going to your first year of Hogwarts."

"Like Hell!" yelled Ron.

"Weasley Book of Magic, Page Four," started Harry, smirking when Ron paled. "It usually is given by your parents, who often demonstrate how to perform it. I believe that spell is used to enhance the pleasure of—"

"I BELIEVE YOU!" yelled Ron, paling a bit.

Hermione blinked, turning towards her lover. "What does he—"

"Hermione, you don't want to know," stated Harry, shivering a bit, recalling when it had been explained to him one Loop where he and Ginny had been engaged before Fifth Year for him. "Let's just say you two are now officially welcomed into the Loops."

"And if we don't believe you?" asked Hermione.

"Then strike me down now," stated Harry, handing them back their wands. "But be warned, this early, it will result in an—"

"_Avada Kedavra_!" yelled Ron.

Harry didn't even have time to curse as the green light struck him. All he could think as death took him was a wonder at what sort of fucked up FUBAR Loop Ron would have just sent them too.

* * *

**New Loop #2:**

Harry stumbled a bit as he stood on shaky legs, cursing his returning sobriety.

He of course, had no one else to blame for his current Loop other than himself. Harry had after all, not only convinced a non-native multiverse traveler named Tom Marvolo Riddle to teach DADA during their fifth year—making Dumbles all the more confused as how the Dark Lord was teaching school and looking one-hundred percent human at that. No, he had also got the man to fight his evil analog.

Although that did not even come close to explaining how this Loop had come to be. He couldn't sense any other Anchors nearby—that and the news that had been playing at the party he just left had not shown the stories one would expect if some of those Anchors were about. This him didn't know any Hermione or Ron. Once again, he seemed to be playing the orphan. Stepparents tried to care—but that was like saying Ron was trying to eat civilized. He had gone to the party to get away from 'their relentless pressure' to surprise his girlfriend—who was apparently surprised to see him … as was the guy she was 'with' and the girl filming them.

Therefore, a lot of drink and several million less brain cells later, Harry was now making his way down the street, trying to get somewhere to sleep his approaching hangover off. As far as he was concerned—and since the Loop's memories weren't hinting at some grand destiny before him—he was going to take a vacation.

**Phfft!**

"Well … who didn't see that … coming?" Harry murmured as he plucked the dart from his neck and did his best not to fall face-first onto the concrete.

* * *

"Wake up, 'Arry," came a familiar sensual voice.

_Well … maybe things are looking up,_ he thought as he opened his eyes and took in his surroundings.

_On second thought, at any other time, while this would be a good situation, this is very, very __**very**__ bad._ He was tied to a bed by his hands and feet, nude if he was feeling what he thought he was—the alcohol was still making things a bit hazy, and a barely dressed familiar quarter-Veela was standing to the side, smiling at him.

As he said, at any other time… "Fleur?"

"Oh, you do know of me," she said happily. "Good, zis will go much easier, non?"

"Is 'e ready?" came a voice that sounded eerily like Fleur's.

"Not yet, Gabrielle; make sure Mama is ready."

"But I want to do zis now!" came the pouting reply from behind the door as the sound of footsteps went away.

Harry gulped, trying to stay calm. It appeared that they were not awake—and thankfully, Gabby was older than their respective ages should be. Nevertheless, that meant for some reason, the local analogs of the Delacours knew him.

_I need to relax. I can't escape if I'm tense or full of fear! Besides, maybe I'm simply overreacting._ "Fleur? Why am I here?"

"You do not know?" she asked, seeing him shake his head. "Oh!

"Forgive me, 'Arry," she murmured, sitting on the bed and cupping his cheek. "I 'ave forgotten your parents were killed.

"My mama ordered us to bring you 'ere so zat you may be trained to fulfill our family duties."

"Duties?" he asked.

"Qui," she said. "You see, an ally of ours 'as requested our 'elp, and as the two remaining members clans, we must 'elp zem!"

"Help them with what?" asked Harry.

Fleur gave him a leer that in his home universe, he would have killed for at times.

Here, it nearly made him soil himself.

"Ze Miroku Clan in Japan 'as asked our 'elp against the Suzuka Clan, and as ze last two Injutsu clans in ze world allied with zem, ze Potters and ze Delacours must 'elp, non?"

"… Injutsu?" he asked, knowing he would not like the answer.

She nodded as she rose and straddled his waist. "Qui," she replied. "In English, I believe it is called Sexcraft."

He could only blink in shock.

"And Mama says you are to be trained in it as quickly as we can," she purred leaning onto him, her lips barely an inch from his own. "Sounds like fun, non?"

_I have no idea if this is a very good thing or a very bad thing,_ he thought as she left a trail of kisses along his jaw line.

But he figured he would definitely have some fun finding out.

* * *

**New Loop #3:**

He was being spied on, nothing new there. He'd been spied on since before the Loops, likely would be spied on even after them.

Of course, he hoped to spend his exit loop doing things to keep such to a minimum, but no matter what, it wasn't likely to stop.

Smirking, he went over his research before he went to see Remus. If Dumbledore was worried about Harry's path before…

* * *

"Ah, so good of you to make it," greeted Dumbledore, as the final four teachers entered for the staff meeting.

However, what really spoke to the aged Headmaster was Remus's face. "Is all well, Remus?" he asked, noticing how the man was pale, eyes wide, and sweat covering his brow.

"Well, Headmaster," stated Remus, quickly taking a sip of water before sitting down, "I apologize for us being late. But something Harry showed me required their input."

Snape snorted. "Oh really, what has that brat brought up? Did he make a list of demands?"

"No," growled Remus. "He may have created a cure for lycanthropy."

The others in the room gasped.

"Sure he has," Snape sneered back.

"On the contrary," interrupted Flitwick. "Remus brought the notes of the matter to me, Sinistra, and Vector. They are incredibly detailed, and while not a perfect cure, it offers a massive shift in the curse itself to allow for full control."

"Please go on," muttered Albus, shocked.

"It started earlier this year, when young Harry came to me, interested in the history of lycanthropy. He even referenced several books on the subject I had never even heard from."

Albus nodded, having reviewed the memory in question. There was a good reason those books had not been heard of before: they were banned for over seven hundred years. All attempts to locate where Harry had found them or where he kept them now had met no success. Even attempts to lightly probe the boy's mind had revealed nothing, and Albus dare not actively probe, less Harry become aware of it.

"And?" asked Minerva.

"Well, he said the person who created the curse was … 'a half-assed fool whose plans and designs could have been refuted by any half-trained magic user—even ones from this school.'

"I was a little confused on that last part.

"And recently, he spoke to me about another wizard he had discovered who created a separate lycanthropy spell, named Iceron."

"I do not believe I ever have heard of such a Dark Wizard," replied Dumbledore. "Severus?"

"No, Albus, the Dark Lord never spoke of him as well."

"Well, Harry told the tale of how this Dark Wizard lived," continued Remus. "Apparently, he created them using lunar energies as a source, much like the version we all know. However, he used a more chimera-approach. In the end, he created werewolves as personal soldiers and a lycan-type known as wererats for assassins."

"Wererats?" asked Hagrid. "'Ow could a wee little guy hurt someone?"

"Anyway, his lycans had full mental control, no matter their forms. In fact, they could store lunar energy to shift at any time between human, hybrid, and animal forms."

"Do we know when and where this occurred?" asked Albus.

"No, but Harry said the research was extremely old. He suggested that the current lycanthropy curse might have been a shoddy attempt to recreate it.

"What happened to him?" asked Sprout.

"With their minds free, he took a wererat as a lover, punishing her when she begged him to free her people. Therefore, she stabbed him, also infecting him with her curse, which also seemed to be able to be transferred via bite or scratch.

"He didn't die though. When he healed, he discovered that his werewolves had already left. For revenge, he created werecats to hunt and slaughter the wererats. He even gave his favorites among them, the werecheetah, who seemed extremely adept at catching rats, a spell on them which would freeze any wererat in their sight."

"But wait," interrupted Minerva, "wasn't he turned?"

"Apparently, his protections on himself severely slowed the infection," replied Remus. "There was a little debate about what happened to him afterwards, but they say there was a prophecy that he would be killed by his werecheetah."

"It could explain why this lycan are not seen anymore," replied Filius. "They may have killed each other."

"And what say you about Mr. Potter's work?" asked Albus.

Remus just sighed, looking towards the ceiling. "Albus, it would be a cure for those out there, no more Wolfsbane. He even showed several charms that could be used to prevent infection from both those lycans and those we know of today."

Snape snorted. "And of course, the Golden Child wants more fame, just like his father."

"Severus!" yelled Minerva.

"Ah, but this work, shows his connections to his mother," smirked the Charms professor, enjoying the wince of Snape's face.

"And do we know what young Harry plans to do with this information?" asked Albus.

"Aside from getting our opinions on whether this could work, whether this could be a cure, and whether or not him pushing it might get past those whom he calls 'staleblood supremacists', to get it out there and restore taken lives; no, he did not," stated Remus.

Albus sank into his chair a bit more. At least the boy wasn't going to use this for the wrong purpose. Although, Albus did wish to know what had garnered Harry's interest in lycanthropy in the first place.

* * *

"Hmm," murmured the Weasley Twins. "Brother of mine, Harry does have quite the perfect sales pitch."

"Indeed," replied the other, as the flipped the page. "Though one must admit, it makes the perfect way to get the birds…"

"When one is the cat," smirked the other, as they continued to go over the book Harry had given them.

"Be sure you choose correctly," offered Harry. "Because to be honest, I still haven't worked out the way to reverse the chimera process in case you want to be something different."

Oh well, the one thing he did have plenty of was time to work on it.

Not to say what he could do with some bountiful catgirls running around Hogwarts. Big and bouncy catgirls…

* * *

**New Loop #4:**

Hermione set in the field, reading a book, going over the symbols Draco had changed in a fit of Malfoy-level stupidity. Her ritual had only been designed to open a simple gateway like those of the Vanishing Cabinets, which might be used to allow the transporting of massive materials without a portkey.

However, because Draco changed a few symbols, the portal had turned outward instead of inward.

"Hmm, this symbol looks like this one from Lina's books, and this one looks like one from Nanoha's… So if it was added to this, and it changed the meaning of this block…

"I have no clue what the hell happened," she replied with a smile.

"Um … what does that mean?" asked Neville, being the first of their group to have stopped staring into the sky where Harry had flown in some weird tube-like pod ship.

"Draco broke the universe somehow," replied Hermione. "Best I can figure, since I haven't really studied fusions of magical philosophies, is that Draco inadvertently turned my attempt to revolutionize cargo transport into a massive wormhole that dropped us who-knows-where."

"Oh … okay," replied Neville. "So I take it we don't have anything to get us home?"

"Since something is blocking mana in the Dragon Lines on this planet, pretty much," she said. "What magic is left in Hogwarts's sink won't last more than a few months, even with the rules and our wands taken. In addition, since we were providing food for the rest of the schools in the Tri-Wizard Tournament, we'll be lucky if those last the end of this month.

"Not to mention what could happen to us if our magical cores starve as it were, or the magical creatures like the House Elves, or even the magical plants."

"So … Harry took that … um…"

"Puddle Jumper," offered Hermione.

"Right, he took that Puddle Jumper from some weird form of a magic bag of holding, and went up to see the position of the stars to determine where we are and maybe what is blocking this mana?" he asked.

"Right."

He let out a breath of relief.

"It sounds completely reasonable," offered Luna.

"Big broom go bye-bye," squeaked Ron, still staring up.

"So what happens if we can't get home?"

"Well, worst case, we die on this planet depending on our survival skills and any available food. With that, best case is we found a colony of humans who may or may not have magic talent. Blessed case, Harry unlocks the mana and we find out Hogwarts was dumped on a Line Nexus on this planet, so we might be able to warp home, assuming it has the power for it."

"And if it doesn't?"

"Any attempt could drop us on another planet that might be dead, a gas giant, a black hole, or in the middle of a star."

"So … bad."

"Right, but enjoy these Gran-free moments." She did wonder if perhaps this twist would expand their time in the Loop. It could be an interesting social experiment… All those students from three schools, one planet without any other intelligent life...

It made her shiver in excitement.

"What are you doing out here?"

Sighing at a joyful fantasy being ripped away, she turned to face her Head of House. "We're trying to locate ourselves in the universe."

"It is always troublesome trying to find oneself," offered Luna.

"You know what the Headmaster said," stated McGonagall.

"True, but he really doesn't have the expertise to tell us where in the universe Draco's stupidity sent us," replied Hermione.

"Ten points from Gryffindor," bellowed Snape. "That has yet to be proven."

"Only because you won't use any potion for Harry to prove that it was Draco's magical signature he detected on my array before it was wiped out by you," replied Hermione.

"Twenty points for—"

"Oh, kiss my ass," replied Hermione, shocking both teachers. "Besides, here he comes now."

The two teachers followed her gaze, shock developing as they saw the Puddle Jumper lower itself from orbit and land before them. Within a minute, Harry exited it, the Creevy brothers behind him.

"Wow, Harry!" exclaimed Colin with glee, camera in hand. "That was an awesome trip! I can't wait to develop those photos from orbit!"

Dennis nodded with excitement, his own camera in hand. "And the picture of that lunar landscape were totally awesome."

"I take it you know our location now?" asked Hermione, interrupting the two Potter-otaku.

Harry nodded. "Had to use outside galaxies to triangulate, but I know where we are."

"Really?" snorted Snape.

"Oh, I'm sorry," offered Harry. "Did the Half-Blood Prince excel in astronomy?

"No? Then do shut up and leave it to the experts." Sighing at the man's stupidity, he turned to Hermione. "I have good news, bad news, more good news, and more bad news."

Hermione waved him on.

"The good news is I know where we are.

"The bad news is that it is on the opposite side of the galaxy and had it not been for a cosmic fluke that an M-class planet was here, we'd have ended up in space."

Hermione winced. "And?"

"Well, I located the source of the mana block, and I believe I can flare the Lines to clear it for the planet."

"But?"

"The bad news is that the resulting explosion might vaporize anything magical within one thousand kilometers, and Hogwarts falls within 985 kilometers."

"Well, I suppose if we move everything to the dungeons, collapse the wards to focus on that point, and add a few shield generators, we should be okay," murmured Hermione.

"Mr. Potter!" screeched McGonagall.

"What? Is this because I killed Barty Crouch Jr. before I left? I swear, you think given the situation, the Headmaster would have stopped his plan and saved the real Moody?"

"W-What?" yelled McGonagall.

"Any chance we can go home?" asked Neville, ignoring the rant. He felt his sanity was better served that way, even if Crouch Jr. had been mentioned.

Harry shook his head. "Unless we make an enormous mana sink, no chance in hell can the local Dragon Lines give us a lift home. And since I don't have any ships with FTL to scout M-class planets ahead of us which might have the needed lines, we're kind of stuck here."

"Yeah!" cried Hermione. Her social experiment would go on!

"… Thanks, Hermione," sighed Neville. "… Wait, was Crouch Jr. still alive?"

"Well, until that knife I threw pierced his brain?" offered Harry.

"Oh. Okay then."

* * *

**New Loop #5:**

Harry was learning many things this day.

One, his respect for authority was getting even lower. Dumbledore, Snape, and a few other teachers were absolutely insisting he hand over his notes and work on the project that made him part-phoenix, so as to 'restore him to normal and ensure the wrong people do not gain access to it'.

Translation: we need you back to normal because we can't send you off to Camp X-ray the Dursleys looking like that, but not before we Obliviate you to ensure Voldemort doesn't gain access to such things, and then burning your work.

Hell no! Who knew how many Loops that idea would erase, how much knowledge he would lose, how much time it would take to regain it? _Greater good, my feather-covered ass…_

Two, a lot of witches and wizards—primarily muggleborns and half-bloods—were very interested in the process and the full animals it could be used with. Although it would take him a while to get Luna's animal—Crumple-Horned Snorkack weren't local animals, after all—it looked like it might take off … after slipping a ban into the ICW Bill of Rights to ensure they couldn't be discriminated against without hefty fines and possibly dissolving of the government involved. Best to ensure you didn't lose everything because of a daft moron who wanted to claim you as a pet, and all you owned.

It was amazingly easy to do since most of the block for the 'old values' only looked to ensure it didn't say anything about muggles, muggleborns, and half bloods.

Other than those words, they'd stamp yes to just about anything, a fact proven in hundreds of Loops and confirmed as of this summer—he was not going to spend it as someone's pet again, especially since he had to stay confined until it was decided and the political bickering wouldn't end before the Loop.

And three, Veela chicks dug a phoenix man. Maybe it was the part-bird heritage they had in common, or the ability to generate and control fire, or even the ability to affect the emotions of others.

_"Your wings, they feel so warm,"_ cooed a half-Veela witch in French.

Then again, it could just be the confidence and buff body he now possessed. _"I'm part phoenix, my dear,"_ smirked Harry. _"We know how to warm things very well."_

That earned him their laughter as he exaggerated his actions, making the line seem cheesier than intended.

"Mr. Potter!"

Sighing, he turned from the lovely Veela-descendant women on either arm and looked towards his Head of House. "Yes, Professor?" he asked. Was it really so wrong in their opinion for him to be happy? A bird—he hoped that wasn't offensive to them—on each arm and it never failed that some Hogwarts professor would show up to interrupt him.

Maybe three was more his number.

"There is a meeting of the competitors of the Tournament going on now," she advised, looking with disapproval at his current situation.

That statement honestly surprised Harry. He'd never had any meetings with them that day. _Perhaps my change is altering more than I dared hope._

Nodding, he released the girls before turning around, grabbing their closest hands, and given them a chaste kiss on their knuckles. _"Alas, my dear lovely women, Fate seems to conspire against me again to deny me your enchanting company._

_"Until we meet again,"_ he finished, giving them each a bow, and heading towards the castle.

"Both of them, Mr. Potter?" asked McGonagall.

Harry just smirked. _For now,_ he mentally chuckled.

* * *

"This will not stand!" bellowed Karkaroff. "Not only do you somehow acquire **two** champions, but you allow one to … to … to mutilate himself like this for an advantage."

Harry just snorted. "Says the guy with the club tattoo on his arm."

Amazingly, that did very little to endear him to the foreign Headmaster.

Apparently, now there were complaints that Harry's new form gave him an unfair advantage in the tournament … because having someone who should only have the appropriate education for fourteen-year-old compete against those who were completing their final year was entirely fair.

"I assure you, Igor, we shall have Mr. Potter returned to normal before the First Task," stated Dumbledore.

Harry openly snorted. The task was in two days and the expected him to be normal by then? It seemed the older a magic-user got, the more forgetful they were, as they had been bugging him since the end of October for his notes, and nearly a month later, he still refused.

Oh, but two days before a task and witnessing the Headmasters of the three schools complain about petty things, that would change his mind.

Not.

"There are no rules against it," offered Ludo, hiding his smile very well. If Harry hadn't known how much the gambling addict had wagered on him winning, he'd almost believe the guy was being impartial.

"It is true," offered Harry with a smile. "Section 78, paragraph 3, Section 112, Section 3b, and Section 197, Section 1c are the only ones that could come close to having an issue with it. But those are negated by Section 201, paragraph 1, which states alterations made to the base form **after** entry are forbidden.

"As you know, I changed before that, and one could take that to mean trying to change me back during the tournament would be highly illegal."

"Mr. Potter is quite correct," Bagman nodded—probably having no idea what Harry was referring to with his citations. "As such, any and all attempts to revert Mr. Potter back to his original form must cease."

It was a dirty move, but they really had no one but themselves to blame. Now they couldn't persist in their efforts to make Harry go back without breaking the rules. It wouldn't stop their hounding him for the original notes and spells, but they couldn't do so it publicly without looking like fools or petty. Releasing a tired sigh, Dumbledore nodded. "Agreed."

"But it still does little to punish him for his own breaking of the rules!" declared Igor.

And thus, the bickering began again.

* * *

"But Harry!"

"Hermione, no!" glared the Boy-Who-Turned-Phoenix. "I am not sharing those notes with you."

"But don't you trust me?"

_Maybe I can just Burst her into the Library of Congress and be done with it,_ he thought, rubbing his forehead. He was just trying to enjoy a simple meal after dealing with adults for over an hour, adults being the loosest definition of the word. He could only hope when he exited the Loops, he wouldn't be that … childish. "Can you protect your mind from others reading it?"

"I… Well…"

"See, I can, and if you can't, but you know this stuff, then they can pluck it from you, and next thing I know, I'm in the medical wing with my plumage off to Olivander's to make new wands."

"She might have a point, mate," offered Ron, pausing in-between bites. "You sure that change isn't messing with you?"

"Ron, it would be like you being made a Cannon, and people saying you should give it up."

"… See Hermione, he makes more sense," stated Ron. "Why can't you explain things like that?"

Glaring at him, she turned back to Harry. "But surely the Headmaster wants what is best for you."

"I counter that with our first two Defense teachers, the Dursleys, Snape, and…"

"Oh, Harry, you would think it was the Headmaster's fault for every ill in your life."

"Who gave me to the Dursleys?"

"Well—"

"Who hires the teachers?"

"You—"

"Whose job is it to oversee the safety and well-being of any and all students in this school, as well as what keeps getting Hogwarts listed as the safest spot in all of Magical Britain?"

"I—"

"Who is effectively in charge of the ruling bodies of Magical Britain and Magical Europe, thus is in place to have helped Sirius or even dealt with the old staleblood agenda?"

"Now—"

"And finally, who was in charge of security to ensure no underage contestants entered the tournament or that the Goblet of Fire was tampered with, and when it was, did nothing to try and correct it, thus sending a fourteen year old student to compete in a tournament that has at one point, killed all the contestants and two Headmasters?"

"… Really?" asked Hermione.

Harry nodded. "Now, why would I give up anything that might ensure I survive this latest bit of Hell I got tossed into?" he asked, filling his plate once again. Normally, even with the metabolism of a phoenix, he wouldn't have another helping of the food or deserts.

But Hermione being debated into silence? How often did that happen?

* * *

"Hello, Beastie," smirked Harry, as the Hungarian Horntail growled at him.

Coughing lightly into his fist, Harry took a deep breath, ready to try another experiment. R&B sung in Parseltongue with the added benefit of a phoenix's effect.

If that didn't calm down the giant fire-breathing mother before him, nothing would.

_**"In the still, of the night…"**_

* * *

**New Loop #6:**

Harry sighed in the classroom, hating his luck. He had after all, arrived years ahead of schedule, years before he could look forward to escaping Club Dursley. Years to look forward to of being called a waste and such.

His eyes went wide. Perhaps it was time for him to fit the role they insisted he carry.

_Good thing I'm a prodigy,_ he thought with a smile.

* * *

The loud roar of a hundred Harley-Davidson motorcycles was heard on Privet Drive, a convoy of bikers making their way down the perfect little street. A few brave members of the perfectly ordinary street came out to see the ruckus, others content to hide in their homes, peeking out through curtains and blinds, even a few calling the local police in fear of some illegal activity.

Finally, the pack started to congregate in front of Number Four, Privet Drive. When they had effectively blocked the street, angling about the house, they slowly turned off their machine, allowing a bit of quiet to fall upon the sleepy and normal street.

Not that it did anything to lower the fear to any who saw the design on the back of their leather jackets.

"Hellion! We're here!" yelled a large man, easily two meters tall, and a patch on one eye.

The door opened, showing the supposed bad boy of the neighborhood—if one believed the local gossip—of Harry Potter, decked out in leather, normal glasses replaced with sunglasses, and a duffle bag over his shoulder.

"Hellion."

"Stack," nodded Potter.

"What are you doing on my lawn!?"

No one ever accused Vernon Dursley of common sense in any amount.

That is probably why while he had been yelling at the leader of the biker gang, standing before him, he should have been looking at his nephew, who reached into his sleeve, pulled out a collapsible baton, and struck the man in the groin. When the overweight man hit the ground, Harry gave him a strong shot to his jaw with his fist.

Apparently, Vernon had a glass jaw.

Stack just gave it a raised eyebrow.

"What? Little shit only forced me to live in a cabinet under the stairs since I got here, do all their chores. Not like he did my mom or anything." Harry hoped it was loud enough for the neighbors to here. A few of them believed in the old adage: environment is part of what makes a child. Moreover, with the quick talking Petunia would be doing in a few days, how many would trust her?

"Ready?" Stack asked.

Harry nodded. "Got the stuff?"

Stack snorted.

Chuckling lightly, Harry made his way towards an open sidecar on Stack's Harley, tossing his stuff to Stack's girlfriend, who smiled as she attached it to the bike. The closest members chuckled lightly, remembering how 'Hellion' had joined up with them, showing up at their clubhouse, beating the hell out of half of them when they said they didn't have any 'tricycles' for a baby.

A few robberies, helping get guns past security to Brazil, and he was in, the youngest member of the gang. Hell, if it weren't for the police always hounding them, he'd be on his own bike.

However, he could wait. He just wished he could see Dumbledore's face when Mrs. Figg let him know what was going on.

"Let's ride!" Hellion yelled, as the others cheered, their Harleys roaring to life as they took off. They did have a rally to get to, after all.

* * *

**New Loop #7:**

For any normal student attending Hogwarts—at least, one in his Fourth Year and a year in which he will eventually be dragged into the Tri-Wizard Tournament—being before the four Head of Houses and the Headmaster would be a scary prospect. After all, they wouldn't be there to thank you, award you something, or offer praise—at least, not when Harry had ever attended.

Hell, he had been part of the Introductory Male Class to Salem in one Loop and somehow got pulled into competing for them in the Tournament.

Curiously, he couldn't recall the new name the Tournament was given after Dumbledore 'admitted' that the American School was there to heal the rift between the two worlds. All he knew was that it began with a Q. Tri-Wizard Tournament, Penta-Wizard Playoffs, and then you had Quad-Wizard…

_Damn it, now that's going to bug me all Loop…_

"Mr. Potter," spoke the Headmaster.

Blinking, Harry focused back on those before him. Truthfully, he'd rather have pulled this stunt next year, just to mess with Delores and the 'Potter is a loon' sheep. However, he was bored. "Yes, sir?"

"We will need you to cease your actions, restore yourself and Ms. Lovegood to your original forms, and decease all efforts to create this Church of yours," asked Albus.

"Do not worry, sir," said Luna, dressed in a sexy-nun outfit, "the Church of Bastet and our Goddess forgive you for this heresy, for you know not what you do."

"Utter madness," muttered Snape.

Harry just smiled, hoping Ranma would forgive him—as well as praying that the Bastet on Ranma's Earth didn't chat with the one on this one. Harry had enough trouble dealing with Peorth. "But sir, we are simply helping spread the Goddess's message of choosing Love, not War.

"Why, we even have a brother Church, lead by Father Remus Lupin, the Church of Wepwawet."

"Who?" asked Sprout.

"Egyptian God, phased out, name means Opener of the Ways," offered Harry. "He updated his portfolio to become the patron of werewolves." Harry felt it best to stay quiet about how the meaning of the God's name allowed him a large hand in sexual matters as well. However, luckily, the two Churches had avoided the old 'cats and dogs' squabbles by sending an emissary over to Remus, Sister Nymphadora Tonks.

Oddly, the changes didn't help her clumsiness at all.

"And Bastet is your patron Goddess?" asked Flitwick, his inner Ravenclaw coming out.

"She is the patron Goddess of all cats, including werecats," offered Luna, smiling as only a Lovegood Werecheetah could.

Yes, Harry had loved the chaos of Ranma's own Church; he had to make his own. That Bastet had even gifted him with a Nyaomatrix to create the needed werecats.

Getting a Bowwowmatrix—he really needed a better name for it than that—for Remus had been something else entirely. He didn't know there were that many types of wolves to begin with.

Nevertheless, it wasn't all bad, especially when he managed to talk the Goddess out f creating were-nundu.

Maybe later though. Would make the 'after transforming nookie' a bit difficult, what with their tongue of death invading your mouth.

"Harry, you promised me you would do nothing improper with those spells you rediscovered," stated McGonagall.

"We all are called to certain destinies," Harry offered. "Mine came sooner than others, but I think the pursuit of a world without anger or strife would be a noble quest."

"And have you thought how the lesser elements in the ICW or even the Wizengamot?" asked Snape with his ever present sneer.

"Of course," Harry replied, pulling several bundles of parchment from his bag. "Before I began my Church or even assisted Father Remus in founding his, I was able to get several dozen decrees passed within the ICW." Handing them to Flitwick, who happened to be the closest teacher to him, he continued. "As such, our parishioners cannot be discriminated against, claimed as property, declared non-human, or any such method those of lesser or dubious morale might seek to attack us with."

"The Goddess will lay such blasphemers low with the bites of nargles," offered Luna.

"Nor would they be allowed to feast on a roasted crumple-horned snorkack," nodded Harry in agreement.

"Quite a solid case," muttered Flitwick, passing the parchments down as he read them. "Were this not such a serious matter, I would give your House points for this well-crafted legislation."

"And how did you get these … edicts … passed?" asked Snape.

Harry just smiled. "I threatened to publish a ward scheme that when applied to a legislative house, forces politicians to be completely honest and explain why they do or do not support a bill."

"HARRY POTTER!" bellowed McGonagall. "You blackmailed them!"

"No, I simply gave them a choice of doing what was right or what was easy," he said with a smile. "And as the Church of Bastet is co-founded with permission from the current Head of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter and Black, it carried a lot of political weight."

"Excuse me?" asked Dumbledore.

"Well, while my Godfather is unable to run House Black until he deals with some minor legal issues," Harry started, ignoring Snape's snort, "he was able to name me as a Temporary Head with all rights and privileges. That made me technically an adult in several legal circles, which allowed me to also immediately claim my title as Head of House Potter. And with that, I was able to use the political power of those houses to introduce those bills and ensure their passage." He figured he would wait a while before springing on Dumbledore that he also had dissolved Bellatrix's marriage and taken the sum of House Lestrange, since as Bella had been convicted and confessed, there was likely no chance of her and her husband producing an heir, thus allowing House Black to take everything they had.

Marriage contracts signed by Blood Quills were such nasty little things for lawyers to play with. Only the fact that Narcissa somehow spawned Draco kept him from doing the same to House Malfoy. Nevertheless, he had lawyers working on that one too.

The Church did need a nice location for a Cathedral, after all.

"I see," Dumbledore responded, noticeably confused, but over either Harry's sudden political savvy or his Church was anyone's guess.

"Father Potter," interrupted Luna, "we must hurry. You have some new members of the Church to welcome in an hour."

"I am afraid I cannot allow that," stated Dumbledore in a kind tone.

"Actually, Albus, you have to," spoke Flitwick, handing him the parchment he had been reading. "The schools can do nothing either to hinder Church functions as long as those involved are doing so under their own free will, without coercion of any sort."

Harry gave a smile that would better fit one that ate a canary. "Separation of Church and State is such a grand idea the Americans gave us, don't you agree?" he spoke, smiling at the Headmaster.

Besides, the old bat was keeping him from helping some new witches join the Church. It was amazing how Luna Lovegood going from scrawny Third Year to catgirl pinup model changes many teenage witch minds.

Not to mention the side benefits of being a Bastet-designed werecat.

It was good to be King, or in his case, the one male werecat around.

* * *

**New Loop #8:**

Harry sighed as he trudged towards the Headmaster's office. He knew something was definitely off about this Loop. However, the problem was that no matter how he approached it, the discrepancies refused to surface in his mind.

"I hate Loops like that," he muttered. The Universe he now inhabited was not his Prime Universe, he was certain of that much. Little differences did occur, a new statue here, a painting there; they all screamed out that fact. Nevertheless, one item remained, one piece to the puzzle that was his current life that refused to surface.

"What the—?" he spoke, blinking as he stood before the entrance to the Headmaster's Office. Gone was the gargoyle, replaced by a large door. To the left and a bit away from the door, a bell pull now resided—though why it was shaped like a hangman's noose, Harry couldn't even begin to guess.

"Curiouser and curiouser," Harry replied, grabbing the bell pull. Perhaps seeing the Headmaster would solve his issues, help arrange his thoughts so that he could—

"SHIT!" Harry yelled, as a loud gong sound rang out, seeming to shake the entire castle. From what he was seeing so far, this Loop was already quickly approaching insane—even for Hogwarts.

"You rang?"

Getting his heart rate back under control, Harry looked up … and up … and up. "… Damn!

"Um … can I see the Headmaster?" Harry asked, looking at the tall … he was going to go with man.

The figure nodded, before turning back inside.

"Lurch, ole boy!" came the excited voice behind the door at the top of the stairs, a voice that definitely didn't belong to Albus Dumbledore. "What's up? You caught me hitting some balls at the Whomping Willow. Good bean always returns them right back!"

Harry blinked. Did the Lurch guy … groan?

"Ah, young Harry's here! Show him in!"

And in that moment, the missing information clicked, his mind understood. He was there to see the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Gomez Addams. "Well, this won't end well."

* * *

**New Loop #9:**

"So, here we are again," came the voice of an elderly man, sitting across from Harry at a 3-D chess board. His hair was slightly grey, but his appearance was very aristocratic.

"Yep, another Loop, Tom," replied Harry, moving his Bishop. "So, will you be any trouble, or do I need to let **him** have you.

Both figured turned to the side of the grassy lawn they were playing on, sitting at a table, to spot a nearly all-pale version of Harry, white wizarding robes, sword strapped to his back, looking at them with dark yellow eyes.

"You do realize the irony of having an Inner Hollow named Quetzalcoatl?" asked Tom.

"Irony is my life," replied Harry.

"Agreed," Tom spoke, moving a pawn, "to both your statement and your question."

"Good," replied Harry. "I'm tired of having to constantly feed you to him."

"I WANT THE TASTY SOUL BIT!" yelled Quetzalcoatl from the sidelines.

Privately, Harry wondered if it was a darker 'Potter arrogance' Snape always bitched about that caused his Inner Hollow to choose that name.

Sadly, it offered the chance that Snape could be right, and thus invalidate natural law, so he dropped the matter.

"Yes, let's avoid that for now," Tom replied, gulping slightly. "Granted, this wasn't the immortality I sought, but then again, beggars can't be choosers.

"So then, aside from viewing the world from your eyes, not being fed to your inner demon, and perhaps making it to the end of these Loops without taking a _Avada Kedavra_ from my main body, what can I do to pay you back?"

"Mental chat is always nice," replied Harry. "Hermione isn't quite as mad as say … Sakura," he spoke, as both men and the Inner Hollow shivered, "but a competent voice of reason is always good."

Tom nodded. "Yes, you did after all distill an earlier version of myself for his knowledge," replied Tom. "Fascinating process, I admit. Should we find other horcruxes left behind by other wizards, it might make sense to do the same."

"Been searching around Egypt and the Middle East, struck Gringott's a few times to see if they had any there aside from the Cup. Nothing."

Tom nodded. "Goblins were always careful about holding them. I believe Helga's Cup only lasted because of the fact they made it."

Harry nodded. "Although, you do grant me a great option this Loop."

"Oh?"

"Well, I did play a trick on your main body one Loop that I was taken over by you."

Tom smirked. "Very Slytherin of you, Harry. How did that go?"

Harry just smirked, taking one of Tom's pawns with his Rook. "Considering I had one of your wands, very well. Even his leaking info to Draco didn't help during Fifth Year. Actually, he tried to walk into the Ministry and get the prophecy himself."

"I am beginning to hate Divination," Tom grumbled. "Most of them seem to be self-fulfilling. Had it not been for what Severus reported to me, I wouldn't have bothered as much with your family."

"True," replied Harry, watching as he lost a Knight. "I've gotten him a few times. Remind me later to show you some of those Loops. I actually made him explode one Loop.

"Granted, potions helped, but still, not bad for the first year spawn of his mortal foe."

"Severus never could let go. Then, I suspect, many can never let go of childhood rivals and such.

"Certainly, my main self never did," he replied sadly. "In a way, perhaps when the Loops end, my humility might survive."

"You hope to regain a body?" asked Harry, knowing what might reverse a horcrux creation: total remorse.

"Never know, Harry," replied Tom. "I recall a Tom Riddle you met from another universe, raised by Saotome. Sane—well, as sane as anyone raised by a Saotome could be, kind, helpful, strong; part of me pines to have had such a life.

"Alas, Fate was not as kind to me in our world," he said sadly, setting a pawn to be taking by Harry's Rook, but opening up a way to take his other Knight. "No excuse, but it does make one think.

"Surely, you have wondered in those rare realities where you take the post of an evil version of yourself."

Harry nodded, feeling a few of those memories try to surface. Killing a young Tonks to make a horcrux when she visited him in an orphanage wasn't one of his happier moments.

Tom nodded, seeing Harry fail to rise to the bait on the chess boards. "We each are capable of great evil, every human is, and every intelligent being is.

"What we do defines us, Harry.

"And yet you still retain sanity in such things," replied Tom. "I admit, even without the way things went the first time, you are the better soul."

Harry nodded.

"But now that we are working together, granted, in such an odd way, I look forward to seeing what you do now.

"I do, however, ask that you give me some warning before sacrificing me for the Greater Good," he spat. "I know that because of my current bindings, I essentially do have a backup of my memories. However, it does not make it any easier to take a hit, as it were."

Harry nodded in agreement. "Oh, believe me, I know where that came from."

Tom smirked as he captured Harry's Queen. "Part of me does wonder, though."

"Oh?"

"If I got as much tail as you did in some of these Loops, would I have been such a … idiot?" asked Tom. "Like you, there was a hot set of twins in my years, divided among Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Granted, not as … developed as Parvati and Padma, but still…" Tom closed his eyes, giggling slightly as if he was a certain Sannin from Naruto's world.

"Well, this is creepy."

"Oh, pish-posh," waved off Tom. "Like you have done any less.

"I just ask if there if a Loop where you meet my younger self, share such wisdom.

"I do believe had my younger self not been so into revenge and proving himself, I would not have been so … much an asshole."

Nodding, Harry made another move on the board. Hooking up a Dark Lord, even a former one, was not something he ever imagined doing.

However, much like the Muggle World, he was learning how much changed from the lack of a booty-call.

* * *

**New Loop #10:**

Looping about, Harry realized one thing, something more Muggleborn and quit a few Halfbloods did after graduation from Hogwarts.

If you weren't connected, your future was shot.

Hogwarts prepared you, yes, but only to survive in the magical world. For the normal world, you were out of luck. True, you could take a GED, but Hogwarts and a GED didn't look good on most college applications.

Ashford School, however, looked very well. Ten percent of the students went on to go to Oxford or Cambridge, which was a pretty good setup for a life outside of serving fish and chips.

Getting in wasn't an issue. Scholarships provided for that, secured by studying Mundane texts for something new in Hogwarts—he probably knew more than most Advanced Placement students. What more, it got him out of the Dursleys more than he dared hoped.

It was somewhat hard to portray him as a hardened criminal when he went to an expensive school, a grade ahead of his age group, and not in town when Dudley decided to be bad.

In addition, the Dursleys could hardly afford to act up, lest they appear 'freakish' to high society. Apparently, Vernon's boss and a few of the company's higher-ups had children attending as well.

And the look on their faces when Dudley couldn't get past the entrance exams…

Priceless.

Nodding in the mirror at his room—not the smallest, lest when the other Ashford parents came over to chat, they might notice him being mistreated—he finished tying his tie and heading downstairs. The school had organized a summer field trip to Cambridge in hopes of inspiring more students to apply.

Hearing the doorbell ring, he looked at the clock. They were here an hour early?

"What are you doing here?" he heard his Aunt screech downstairs.

Blinking, a smile formed on his lips. "I guess they got my owl."

* * *

Sitting across from him were Professor McGonagall and Headmaster Dumbledore himself. His 'family' had left the room, not wanting to be involved with anything 'freakish'—unless it came deep-fried or was hot gossip. "So then, may I help you?" Harry asked.

"We have come to talk about your response, Mr. Potter," stated Albus.

"I'm afraid I don't see the point," replied Harry. "I did turn down your offer. While I may be accepted there, I do have my current school plan."

"I understand, Harry," replied Albus. "But there are other matters you need to be made aware of."

"Oh?" asked Harry, sipping his tea. "I am unaware of any matters I have."

Albus smiled, seeing an opportunity to try to change Harry's mind. "Yes, my boy. You see, it all goes back to—"

"I'm sorry, Headmaster, not to interrupt, but we must hurry. I have a field trip to attend in forty-five minutes. So if we could speed this along, or reschedule for Monday afternoon, it would be appreciated."

The two blinked at him, making him internally smirk. It probably wasn't often they had control of their meetings pulled from them.

"I'm afraid I must insist," stated Dumbledore.

"Sir, you showed up on my doorstep with no warning, and yet you expect me to drop everything to listen to you try to sell me on changing my decision," stated Harry. "The fact that I am giving you this time is a large consideration on my part."

"Why I never," huffed McGonagall.

"Professor, I am being quite civil here," replied Harry. "May I remind you that I already made my decision on the information provided? The fact that you arrived unannounced and expect me to capitulate to your demands could also be construed as offensive.

"But seeing as how the situation seems to offend you, perhaps it would be best to reschedule for Monday," Harry replied, sitting down his tea and standing up.

"Harry, I'm afraid the information we need to impart is of the highest importance," Albus stated quickly, seeing the control of the meeting further slipping from him.

Harry knew what he was thinking. The hero of the wizarding world not attending Hogwarts? His carefully laid plans to gradually prepare Harry to take an AK to the face slipping away? Sure, he would try to console himself with the illusion that if Harry were not brought into Hogwarts, the Death Eaters and stalebloods would hunt him down, forgetting of course that the so-called protections were meant to keep such from happening.

Dumbledore always saved the greatest lies for himself.

No doubt, he would call together the Old Bird club, try to figure some way to 'convince' Harry to change his mind and come to Hogwarts, to prepare to fulfill a prophecy for Trelawney.

Not that Harry cared. A Mundane education in the proper environment would do him some good. It was not Hogwarts, but it wasn't any of the other schools either. Amazing how often a Headmaster would wreck his grades to keep him there longer.

No, he knew that by the time his field trip ended, he could expect at least one attempt by Dumbledore to change his mind, more as the time between then and the Welcome Feast at Hogwarts began. Albus needed his pawn, needed his game.

Sadly, Harry wouldn't play anymore. Too many years, too many strings.

Ashford was something new, and damned if Harry would let anyone—even the Great Albus Dumbledore—mess that up for him.

Besides, if he didn't go a few times, how could he learn to skip more than one grade and even spend some of the Loops in college?

Girls loved an Ivy League man.

"Well then, I bid you good day, and look towards seeing you Monday," Harry replied, as he headed towards the stairs, shrugging off one of the Headmaster's wandless charms to peak his interest and make him stay.

The more things change, the more they stay the same. In fact, he half expected he would be somehow called to attend the Tri-wizard tournament, no matter what.

However, for now, private school girls awaited.

* * *

**New Loop #11:**

"Potter," sneered Draco, spotting his arch-nemesis—in his eyes only—sit down at the Slytherin table.

"Ah, such a cold greeting, dear cousin," sighed Harry dramatically. "Why, I hardly feel the love."

"We are not family!" growled Draco.

Harry shook his head sadly. "For one who preaches about pureblood family lines, you don't seem to know them too well.

"Charlus Potter married Dorea Black, daughter of Cygnus and Violetta, formerly Bulstrode. Cygnus and Violetta had another child which eventually led to your mother, Narcissa Black, now Malfoy," Harry finished. "Really, one should know the family trees of the Ancient and Noble Houses."

Draco fumed, glaring at Harry for showing him up. "What's the matter, Scarhead; trying to make yourself feel better that your mother was a mudblood?"

Harry gave him a patronizing look. "Such crude manners as well, saying that phrase in public, and to the future head of an Ancient and Noble House, no less."

Blaise Zabini gave a noticeable look at the duo. "Manners and proper social etiquette has gone down for many years."

"Potter," came a familiar drawl voice.

"Professor," smiled Harry, looking up at the Potions professor.

"Five points for instigating a fight," he stated.

"Ah, how quaint," replied Harry. "You see, doing some research into the House Point system, I discovered it means nothing towards job prospects for future career choices. As such, I fail to see giving much thought or care to a system where in the end, I only get to see the winning house colors on the banners above my head.

"But to my main point," he stated, turning back to face Draco, ignoring Snape's mouth forming an angry sneer, "I came to let my dear cousin know that the Inquisitorial Squad is about to be disbanded, perhaps even taken for questioning."

Now it was Draco's turn to sneer. "I knew it; mad like the papers said."

Harry chuckled lightly. "How you came to call yourself my rival, I will never know.

"Perhaps I should post a listing on the school bulletin board," he mused.

"Anyway, in three, two, one," he counted down, slapping off Snape's attempt to grab his robes, as the main door to the Great Hall burst open, showing several men in red robes, each one with an ICW crest.

"Dolores Umbridge!" they called out.

"Yes?" asked the Defense teacher, from the staff table.

"According to reports, observations, and testimony, we are here to arrest you."

"On what charges?" demanded the woman.

"Violation of International Law on Blood Quills, violation of International Law on the use of Veritaserum, and a host of other charges that will be explained to you when you are taken into custody."

"Under what authority?" she demanded.

"Under the Authority of the International Auror Division of the ICW," stated the man. "We are also very happy to inform you, as a Ministry representative, that the British Ministry and yourself are being fined for failure to teach classes including the required texts."

"Excuse me!" the frog-like woman screeched.

"You had something to do with this, didn't you, Potter?" stated Snape, eyes narrowed.

"If you mean I informed the body outside of Fudge's control about her actions, provided memories, testified under Veritaserum, and provided a cloak to hide them as she gave detentions," commented Harry, "then you will find no evidence proving or supporting such wild accusations."

Several Slytherins were glaring at him.

"What? Blaise can appreciate what I did."

"True," said Slytherin nodded. "Set up in such a way, not even the Minister can save her, while invalidating each of her Doctrines, Rules, and Edicts. In addition, given her wide range of actions, none of it could be traced back to you specifically.

"Impressive," he nodded.

"Take notes, Cousin," sneered Harry. "That is how a true Slytherin acts." Standing up, Harry raised his glass towards the ICW Aurors now dragging Umbridge off the grounds. Within minutes, she'd be Internationally Portkeyed to their headquarters in Europe and interrogated. "Oh, Madam?"

The woman paused in her rants, turning towards Potter.

"Remember, you must not tell lies," Harry stated.

"YOU!" she yelled. "I'll get you for this!"

Harry chuckled lightly. "They all try, Madam. But since I don't know why you would be getting me, as I only offered some sage advice, I will only assume those were the lashing out speeches of someone afraid of prison. Do be safe," Harry responded, as he left the table and took the long way to get back to his own House table.

Who knew studying International Wizarding Law would be so much easier than British Law.

* * *

**New Loop #12:**

"Here you are, Great Harry Potter," stated Dobby, handing Harry a cup of tea while setting up a plate of biscuits … or cookies.

He'd been to America so often lately; he wasn't sure which term he liked better. "Thank you, Dobby."

"Um … is the Great Harry Potter sure it is safe to be around here?" asked the nervous house elf.

"Of course," Harry replied, his wand lashing out and knocking an incoming bone-shattering curse away. "I'm in no danger.

"They, on the other hand, perhaps if they interfere with this excellent snack you brought me."

"Oh, the Great Harry Potter is happy with what Dobby is providing!" cheered the happy elf, popping away.

"Ah, much better than the first time," Harry admitted from his seat, whipping a bit of broken wall in front of him to block an incoming Killing Curse. How often did one get to watch Dumbledore and Voldemort go all out?

"Harry, hide!" yelled Dumbledore, animating the fountain statues to attack Tom.

The Boy-Who-Lived snorted, even as he checked a small laptop beside him, ensuring that the battle was being recorded—he truly loved Technomages in America. No way was Fudge going to stand around when he sent these via the American diplomat to the ICW.

"You cannot protect him, fool!" yelled Tom, sending Fiendfyre towards Harry.

Flicking his wand, Harry produced his own, pouncing on Voldemort's snake construct, ripped it apart, before flipping the bird at the Dark Lord, and vanishing.

"I'm a lover, not a fighter," Harry stated dismissively. "You two play on your own.

"Oh, look who finally showed up," Harry replied, as the staff of the Ministry finally flooed into their own building. "And only hours late. My, they haven't improved at all since Tom's last pathetic attempt to seize power to try and earn Daddy's approval."

Roaring in rage, Voldemort sent a Killing Curse towards Harry … that was stopped by the empty plate the snacks had been on, being tossed into it.

"You better hope Dobby didn't favor that plate. He knocked Lucius on his ass, you know," Harry replied, turning away and finishing off his tea. Looked like the show was over.


	11. Magical Time Loops 5

**Magical Loops 5**

Disclaimer: I don't own this series or any other series. I am just floating an idea. I am making no money, nor plan to, off this venture. If you think of suing me over this, then grow up.

* * *

This group is based on a Groundhog's Day concept, if time was looping, and certain members were aware of this.

These are their insanities.

Also, just found out I am to be a new father for the first time. With OT from work, sorry for the delay.

* * *

**New Loop #1:**

He had been correct. Once again, Dumbledore had acted as predictable as expected, making several attempts during the trip and the resultant time between the Monday meeting and when Harry had left for the field trip. No less than three attempts to get him lost to damage his faith in the school, five attempts to turn the teachers against him, and two attempts to 'convince' the staff at the school that Harry would be better elsewhere.

Amazing how many people didn't check for wards to prevent such acts.

Therefore, here he was, once again getting dressed for the morning, prepared for the latest attempt for Albus to convince him to go to Hogwarts. He knew the usual tale, honed from constant attempts to make him choose Hogwarts over other magic schools. They would say how Hogwarts was the best school in the world—despite never placing in the ICW's independent school review's top twenty. They would say how his parents had planned for it—ignoring that they had also probably planned for a long life, so plans can change. They would try to appeal to his sense of duty, revealing the tale of the Boy-Who-Lived, forgetting that as Muggle-raised, it would mean nothing to him.

And Harry was prepared to debate those points, one after the other. Harry had plans, had no reason to return to the magical world at this time. If he was famous and rich, surely he could hire tutors to help him at his own pace, without leaving Ashford School. And since Hogwarts—in fact, many of the schools in the so-called Old World—didn't have any classes geared towards those wishing to advance in the Muggle World as well, he would have to give up much to attend Hogwarts.

And as to his parents? After a few comments about how low-brow it was to try and use them to sell the school, he would point out that first and foremost, they would want him to be happy, even if that meant he didn't attend the school they had 'planned' for.

"What do you want now?" he heard his Aunt bellow downstairs. Thankfully, Vernon was at work, Dudley was visiting Aunt Marge, and soon, Aunt Petunia would be running out to go to some afternoon tea/gossip some neighbor was hosting, and thus he would be left alone with whomever Dumbledore brought this time.

He did wonder who would be included this time. With none of his attempts—for the greater good, of course—to guide Harry to Hogwarts, working, he would need to pull out the stops. Would he bring friends of his parents? Remus? Would he have sped through a trial for Sirius, hoping that some legal maneuvering would give him a friendly guardian to say to Harry, "Trust us, Hogwarts is for the best, now off you go!"?

He had tried them all before. Everything from emotional blackmail to revealing that he was still on some 'hit lists', to even having Severus drop a few hints, and show up in time to save Harry Potter. Though in the latter, emotional blackmail would usually arrive. "Sorry, Harry, but remember, the deaths of those they got to, trying to get you, was not your fault."

Although, it usually did produce a smile to see Albus arrive with the cavalry to 'save the day', only to find several dead or dying Death Eaters—sorry, innocents who were mind-controlled once again—and Harry just tapping his foot, ready to point out that Albus's protections 'sucked'.

Straightening his tie, he turned from the mirror and prepared to head downstairs. It was time to break the dreams of others, thanks to the amazing super powers of Logic and Common Sense, the kryptonite of wizards.

Besides, he had inroads to make. Some of those private school girls could grow into some major hotties.

* * *

**New Loop #2:**

"Hey, Padfoot!"

Blinking, the tired form of Sirius Black III, Marauder and supposed Secret Keeper of the Potters, looked towards the bars of his cell, spotting… "James?"

"Nope, Harry!" the boy smirked.

"… I've finally gone balmy."

"Now be serious, Sirius," Harry admonished. "If you were insane, you're in Azkaban. So if you went insane here, wouldn't you … I don't know, think you were nude, in bed with Snape, feeling sore on your bottom?"

"… If I had any food, I'd vomit now."

"Aren't you going to ask how your godson got into Azkaban to see you?" Harry asked.

"Not really," Sirius stated. "Since I'm apparently insane, I figure asking questions won't be of much help."

"See, this is why I like the Lovegoods; they are professional in their insanity.

"But since you won't ask, I'll do the decent thing and tell you.

"See, someone told Amelia Bones, the current head of the DMLE, that someone was breaking into Azkaban to silence Sirius Black before any secrets of Moldyshort's could be discovered, such as safe houses, supplies, spells, and foreign supporters."

"Who?"

"Who told or who is breaking in?"

"Both."

"I told, and I sort of 'forced' the enforcer of the Dork Lord to show up."

"Why?"

"Because the Dementors so rarely get to play ball, considering they prefer to have human souls in them."

Curious about what his demented mental figment was talking about, Sirius stood up and approached the door. Luckily, his cell was at the end of a hallway, affording him the stunning view of the rest of the cells.

He blinked in honest surprise, spotting a group of Dementors tossing around… "Is that a rat?"

"Oh yes, tragic story," stated Harry. "Fearful about rumors that you might be questioned by Mad-Eye Moody and Bones, Wormtail decided to resurface and silence you before you could be questioned."

Sirius's growl rose in pitch as he feebly tried to yank open the cell doors.

"Sirius, think for a moment," cautioned Harry. "Now, you could kill him, or leave him to be the ball in the Dementor version of catch."

Sirius stopped struggling, but continued to glare at the rat-ball. "Why doesn't he change?"

"For one, the Dementors might try and Kiss him. And two, I invoked a little-known ward in the scheme around here that prevents animagus transformations, at least until Moody and Bones get here. If I know Fudge, he'll be along with some Aurors of his own to dose you and ask some questions.

"Pity he won't like those answers," Harry mused. "And to happen when Lucius was out vacationing as well," Harry mused.

"This is one hell of a dream, Pup," Sirius muttered.

"Oh, I need you to sign these as well," Harry replied, handing Sirius several forms and a self-inking quill. "And do hurry, my wards to alert me to their arrival just tripped."

"And what are these?"

"Well, sadly, because your time here, you're not quite ready to assume the mantle as Head of House. So, you must sadly release that to your Godson to bring matters up to snuff while you are seeking treatment. I heard they had a nice hospital to deal with Dementor exposure in southern France, oddly right next to a Veela community."

"Really?" asked Sirius.

Harry nodded. "You'll also be seeking treatment in New Orleans, in America, where the medical professionals will need me there to authorize a few things, say around the time of Mardi Gras."

"So, aside from ensuring I get the best professional help available to give me some happy memories and recover from this trauma—"

"May take years, even," Harry muttered sadly.

"… What do you get?"

"As Temporary Head of House Black, I can nullify the marriage of Bellatrix and Rodolphus, for sadly; they have not produced an heir. Not likely to, given their both here with life sentences.

"Luckily, I can absorb their vaults, and use their funds for better things. I've spotted a nice couple of Muggle orphanages that are in the need of funding."

Sirius was barking in laughter as he quickly signed the forms. "Oh, this is a wonderful mental break!"

"I am quite real, Padfoot."

"Then explain how you know all this," Sirius stated, handing his godson the paperwork.

Harry shrugged. "Prophecy and time looping," Harry replied, preparing to drop the ward. "I've got more notches on my wand than you're about to get."

"Really?" asked Sirius.

Harry smirked. "Trust me, all women love a guy who is a Parselmouth," he spoke with a perverted leer.

"See you later, Padfoot," Harry stated, activating a portkey as Wormtail returned to his human form.

* * *

"I still find this all hard to believe," Sirius said, sipping at a drink his Godson had told him to 'drink two and call me in the morning'.

Harry—thanks to an aging potion to legally get into the bar—just smiled from beside his godfather. "So you think the Dementors would make you see this?"

"… Well, the time loops, my brother, Dumbledore…" he trailed off.

"There you two are!"

Turning, they spotted Remus advancing towards them. "Sirius, you are supposed to be in the hospital!"

"Hey, orders from my doctor, Doctor Feelgood," Sirius smiled, holding up his flute of beer.

"And why is Harry old enough to pass for Prongs, post-Hogwarts?"

"Because amazingly, birds won't flash you if you're eleven," Harry replied, sipping his own mixed drink.

Remus just sighed. And to think, he was the one Albus had insisted go with Harry to keep him out of trouble. "The Headmaster will not like this."

"Oh, I'm sure of that," Harry smirked, quickly handing a topless lady a few bead necklaces. "Luckily, we are simply here to comfort Padfoot until the local medical professionals inform us he is in no danger of passing on."

Sirius nodded. "Yes, though I do fear bouts of this issue reoccurring."

"Damn it, Padfoot," Remus muttered.

"And now," called the stage announcer, "let's begin the first Miss Prongs Competition!"

"Sorry, Sirius, used some of the Black accounts for this," Harry replied.

Sirius just wiped away a tear. "Your father would be so proud… Your mother, well, before she'd kill your father and us for corrupting you."

"Us?" asked Remus.

"Come now, Mooney; Lily wouldn't think me or James would be smart enough to pull this off. So of course she'd blame you for—wow, things are bigger in America!"

"Padfoot, focus! We should—DAMN!"

Harry just smirked. "I love vacation Loops!" he cheered, as he caught the thrown top.

* * *

**New Loop #3:**

Well, it wasn't as if he hadn't expected this. He knew it was going to happen after he started to finalize everything, had told the Weasleys and Hermione, Padfoot and Mooney, everyone who was important.

It figured that no response would have occurred until after he had received the transfer acceptance letter from Salem School of Magic.

So now, he stood before the doorway to the kitchen of Grimmauld, waiting for them to call him in. Oh, he wondered what plans they would try, threats and hints they would make, trying to get him to attend Hogwarts for a Fifth Year.

_Yeah, like I want to start this Loop dealing with Umbridge,_he though angrily.

"Please come in, Harry," Molly said, being behind the now open door.

_Oh, Molly. There's a shock,_he thought with sarcasm.

Entering the kitchen, he sat at the only seat available. Not coincidentally, he felt, it was the lone seat opposite the head of the table.

"Now, Harry," began Arthur, sitting closer to him, "we've heard some disturbing rumors."

"I've heard some too," responded Harry with a smile. "But I don't gossip."

At the head of the table was Dumbledore, once again trying to avoid Harry's eyes. To his right was Snape, his left sat McGonagall. Between the two and the rest of the group was a good seat or two—though who they were trying to avoid, either Snape or Dumbledore, was hard to describe. The rest was filled with Sirius, Remus, Molly, Arthur, Tonks, and even Moody.

Harry didn't know how Moody was needed to convince Harry to return to Hogwarts and not flee to America, but he figured it might be for a good laugh.

"You know why we are here, Harry," Albus stated.

"Because Sirius rented you the place?" asked Harry.

"I should be charging rent," Sirius muttered, glaring at Snape.

Snape snorted, before directing a glare at Harry, almost daring him to meet his eyes.

Harry did with a smile, watching as a confused look appeared on the Potion Master's face. Nothing like a Lovegood-designed Occlumency shield to mess with people.

"Harry, you must return to Hogwarts," Dumbledore said.

"I **must** go someplace where I'm not vilified in the press, abused at home, or harassed by people," Harry stated. "And don't think I haven't learned who our new DADA teacher is this year. I'm not dealing with her."

"Typical," snorted Snape.

"With what I've seen of the Wizarding World; yes, yes it is," Harry agreed. "I'm tired of the up and down support, the fact that everyone has done a wonderful job publicizing Tommy's return, and the two Dementors sent after me. So, after all this, I decided maybe this is Fate's way of saying, 'Harry, you need to leave Britain'.

"So, I applied to some schools in America, cause if this crap wants to chase me, it'll need a few extra galleons to do it. I start is late August at Salem."

"But what of your friends, Harry?" asked Molly.

"Hey, they can transfer too," Harry shrugged. "But you know, we've grown apart, with the whole 'not talking to me all summer' thing," he spat out.

"Do not blame them, Harry," Albus stated. "I asked them too, in case it inadvertently led the Death Eaters to you."

Harry arched an eyebrow. "Wow, that much faith in those blood wards you keep saying I'm needed for at Camp Dursley.

"I have to be honest here, sir; not helping your case here," Harry responded. "And they could just as easily ignored you."

"I thought Salem was female-only," Sirius asked.

"It was," smirked Harry. "The Headmistress decided to use me as part of the introductory male class."

"Really?" asked Sirius with a perverted smirk.

Harry nodded. "One male for every three dozen females," he added, trying to keep his smile from seeming perverted. There were a few Veela enclaves in the area—not as much as in New Orleans and Florida, but a few still attended.

"Arrogant like his father," Snape muttered.

Before Sirius could respond, Harry struck first. "See, it is methods like his that make this country such a poor place to live.

"Sorry, Snape, that my Dad was an ass to you, but since you got a club tattoo on your arm and find joy in trying to get me for his sins, I'd have to say you're no better."

Shock was probably the only reason Molly hadn't started screaming about Harry's cursing. Snape was so used to insults, but calling him no better than James Potter? Oh, he could hear those teeth grinding from here.

"I'm afraid that you cannot leave, Harry," Dumbledore said in a sad grandfatherly tone. "Your guardians would not consent to such."

"As I recall, Headmaster, they never consented to me going to Hogwarts either.

"Aside from that, Sirius is my legal guardian. Moreover, the Headmistress has even arranged for him to be taken into custody in America, even given a new trial. Apparently, their magicals seem to have a deep need to embarrass their British cousins."

"Why?" asked Arthur.

Smiling, Harry pulled a small book and slid it over to the Weasley Patriarch. The title was **The History of the American Magical World**. "Basically, Britain used to send all the Muggle-born, half-bloods, and secondary heirs to the purebloods over there, rather than deal with them here or pay a decent wage.

"Amazingly, that upset them." Oh, he wasn't fooling himself. The Americans would probably let Sirius go, even if he had been the Secret Keeper, if only to embarrass their former homeland. Living on average much longer than their Muggle counterparts meant a grudge could be held much longer, ingrained that much deeper.

"I'm sorry, Harry, but you must finish out the rest of your schooling at Hogwarts—"

"Not according to the ICW's education rules," Harry replied with a smile. Oh, this promised to be ever so much fun. Moreover, since dear Albus's quest to spread the truth had ended with his dismissal from the head of the ICW, he couldn't even rewrite them to keep Harry here.

Reading law books for the entirety of the ICW: eight loops, four years, seven months, two weeks, five days, and ten hours.

The look on Snape's and Dumbledore's face when they realized the prophesized one wasn't going to be around to save their asses and they might actually have to **do some work**towards that end: priceless.

Thinking on the issue, he decided to do this more often. It was priceless to see the players on the chess board realize their pawns were no longer playing.

* * *

**New Loop #4:**

Harry continued to hum as he lay on the single cot in the cell, waiting for the man he had requested to arrive, singing a few songs mentally in French so he didn't embarrass himself.

"Mr. Potter?"

Looking up, he saw Jean Delacour, father of two quarter-Veela, high up in the French Ministry, and holding a fresh copy of the Daily Prophet. "Yes?" he replied in French.

"I have finished reading this rag from the Island," he started. "And I was hoping you could give me a … better analysis to see what is true and what that Skeeter woman's inflations are."

Nodding, Harry stood up and approached the bars, waiting for the man to set the paper down and back away—he figured it would be a bad impression to get stunned by the protections on the door when meeting the person you hoped would help you.

Once the paper was in hand, he started speed-reading, looking over the paper and the nearly dozen and a half stories Rita had submitted. He did have a good idea what they would say, after all. With him hanging her Animagus secret over the reporter's head, they had spent the day, going over the stories he was offering.

In addition, since they struck everything from Fudge to Dumbledore to Black and beyond, Rita loved every moment since it was all but guaranteed to be her greatest work.

_Probably final, once Moldyshorts reads it,_Harry thought. Nevertheless, he did warn her, so if she failed to take his advice and leave, especially after the two Dementors Umbitch had sent after him had shown up and nearly kissed them and the photographer…

Well, he couldn't save someone from themselves.

"Yep, pretty much all true for once," Harry offered. Sure, Rita added her own style to it, but the truth was out there, from Sirius's innocence, to Crouch Jr.'s last Kiss at Hogwarts, to Dumbledore's lackluster attempt to warn others of Voldie's return—a whole line of speech at the ICW, to Harry's own attempted assassination via Ministry-approved Dementors.

It had been a simple plan when he had awoken in the Loop, shortly after Fourth Year. He was not going to simply 'go through the motions', as it were. Therefore, one Owl to Rita when Dung was guarding him, and it was set. He simply met Rita at a nearby grocer's, spent time talking with her about his story ideas—which she had written down on a non-modified Quick-Quotes Quill pad—and he merely needed to keep her occupied until the Fated Moment where Umbitch tried to give Harry a Kiss.

It always seemed to happen on that night, give or take half an hour… Curious.

Therefore, now here he was, fresh from his 'escape' from England, applying for sanctuary here in France. Moreover, if there was one group that would help him, merely to spite the English, it would be the French.

Mr. Delacour nodded. "We will of course need to have you tested and verified with Veritaserum, as well as several magical oaths."

"Understood, sir," Harry replied, not worried in the slightest. If it killed him, he'd just start over again.

He just hoped Dobby was able to master Colin's camera. He wanted to have photos of the faces of Dumbledore and the Order when they learned what he did.

The fact he would be likely attending a French magical school, complete with mysterious past, dangerous people after him… Well, the girls just ate that stuff up. Now, all he had to worry about was—

"Until then, you shall stay at my Chateau," Mr. Delacour offered.

Paling, Harry turned to face the man. "Please tell me Gabrielle is off to schooling!"

Jean just smirked. Yes, it was obvious the boy knew of his youngest's crush on him. "Not for another year. Until then, we have a tutor that comes three times a week.

"I do trust you will be able to … maintain a modicum of composure around my dearest child?"

"Can I stay in the cell?"

"No."

"… It's because I'm English, isn't it?"

* * *

**New Loop #5:**

Harry blinked as the world returned to focus, wondering what played-out adventure awaited him now.

"Clear your mind, Potter," came Snape's usual arrogant voice.

_Oh crap, not here and now,_Harry thought, wishing everything to become clear a bit quicker.

Sadly—for Snape—the Potions Professor didn't wait to understand why Harry suddenly looked confused, and held up his wand, right at Harry's forehead. "Legilimens!"

Harry blinked as everything came into focus, Snape before him, eyes unfocused, the tip of his wand glowing to show the spell still in effect.

The problem was … Harry didn't feel him in his mind. "Well … sucks to be him," Harry shrugged, before walking off—pilfering several potion vials and some equipment, including Snape's wand—and heading back to his room.

"Wonder what happened, though," he mused.

* * *

Severus blinked. When he had cast Legilimens, he had expected to immediately play through Potter's thoughts, both to get some information, as well as expand the link as both his 'Masters' had requested.

He didn't expect to find himself in a field, surrounded by trees and sunshine.

"Oh, it is just you."

Turning around, whipping out his wand, he spotted a small stone table, a chess set sitting on it, and a middle-aged man sitting on a nearby seat. His eyes went wide as he recognized the person. "My Lord," Snape proclaimed, falling to one knee, wondering how the Dark Lord had made it through the link so quickly.

Tom merely looked at the Potions professor and sighed. _Should I ever get a body back, I must remember to choose better people to associate myself with, perhaps ensure that they bathe regularly._"Stand up, Severus. I am not the Dark Lord you seek."

Snape looked up from the ground, keeping his face emotionless. "My Lord?"

"Do you play chess, Severus?"

"No, my Lord."

The man's shoulders sagged. "And I had so been hoping for a good game before **he**got you."

"Who?" asked Snape, standing. "And where is Potter's mind?"

"We are not in Potter's mind," Tom stated, looking at the board sadly—_I really need to find some more entertainment in here, or at least have Harry find a way to let me out like Naruto does the Kyuubi_. "You surprised him, so his body redirected you here.

"And as for who, him," Tom stated, pointing to the side of the field.

Snape turned, spotting an image of Potter … but almost … ghost-white in appearance, with black eyes surrounding a yellow center.

**"Ah, and it ain't even my birthday,"**the figure stated, before a long serpent-like tongue snaked out, licking its lips.

Snape just sneered, before raising his wand. "Arrogance; a trait I expect of all Potters."

Tom just shook his head. Well, perhaps this was better than having the fool running off to Albus and stating that the Horcrux in Harry was active.

Besides, he'd never been on this side, watching as Harry's Hollow side tried to eat someone. Who knew, it might prove … entertaining.

* * *

**New Loop #6:**

"Objection!" yelled out Harry, much to the surprise of all gathered for his trial.

None more surprised than the Headmaster. "Harry…"

"Excuse me?" demanded Fudge.

"The Headmaster has had multiple occasions to meet with me to discuss my legal strategies for this trial," Harry continued, refusing to even give a glance at the Headmaster. "As such, he cannot come into this trial now and try and usurp control over my defense, when he has shown no desire to even participate in the planning of such."

"Agreed," Amelia Bones replied with a light smile. "You are entitled to choose who you wish to represent you."

"He is?" asked Fudge, before shaking his head and scowling at Harry. What did he care? True, finding him guilty with Dumbledore defending him would have been an even greater political coup.

But maybe he could deal with just removing one enemy at a time.

"Yes," growled Amelia, before turning towards Harry once again. "Mr. Potter, do you wish to name your barrister?"

"As for now, and the shape of my defense, I am prepared to claim that I will be defending myself."

"A~hem!"

He took a calming breath before turning to face … well, technically, she was a woman. "Yes, Madam?"

"Are you saying that you are willing to rely solely on your own legal knowledge to defend yourself against these charges?" Dolores asked.

It would have been so easy to make a sarcastic comment there and then.

But as the bastard beside him was fond of saying—yet never living up to, he would choose the right way. "I do believe that is what I just stated, Madam Umbridge, and I do believe I was correctly informed that in such trials, the defendant is allowed to act as their own council."

"Very well," Madam Bones stated. "Let the record show such."

"Harry! Please!" whispered Dumbledore.

Harry just ignored him.

Amelia did not. "Mr. Dumbledore; since you have no legal standing as barrister for the defendant, not position within this body, please take a seat in the section for spectators, or you will be escorted out.

Once Dumbledore had been seated in the upper concourse, the trial once again focused on Mr. Potter.

"Have a seat," Umbridge stated.

Harry just cast a side-long glance at the chair. "Forgive me, but is a seat usually reserved for violent offenders, including chains and magical suppression charms, really necessary for a fifteen-year-old on trial for Underage Magic?"

Before Delores could even consider a reply, Amelia stepped in. "No; it is not," she stated, before waving her wand. With a pop, the chair was replaced by a simple wooden one.

"Thank you, Madam Bones," Harry replied with a deep bow, before taking his seat. The only thing he hated about it was that it wouldn't allow him to see Dumbledore's face as he performed some true magic.

As expected from the countless other times he had experienced before, Fudge once again simply repeated the charges against him, which Harry stated were true … until he got to the one Harry was waiting for.

"And by doing so," Fudge started, "broke the Decree on the Use of Underage Magic?"

"No," Harry replied with a quiet smirk.

The gallery and the trio of interrogators stared at him in shock.

"Excuse me!" demanded Fudge.

"I stated, 'no', Interrogator Fudge," Harry replied with a calm demeanor.

"So you think such rules are below you, Mr. Potter?" Delores asked with a sneer.

Turning a lazy gaze towards her, Harry smiled. "Not at all, Interrogator Umbridge. I am simply stating that I did not break such a law."

"Quit lying, boy," growled Fudge.

Harry just changed the focus of his smile. "Now, Interrogator Fudge; that is hardly the proper protocol for addressing a defendant."

"Agreed," Amelia stated, before turning to the Minister. "Keep with protocol or I'll have to ask for your removal from this panel. We want this trial above reproach, after all."

Seeing Fudge turn a color labeled Vernon-3, Harry slowly stood up. "It is my stance that I was already excused from Underage Restrictions, and as such, cannot be charged with them."

"Explain," Amelia replied, before either of her co-interrogators could interfere.

"Thank you, Interrogator Bones," Harry offered, bowing again, before pulling a trio of large folders from a satchel at his side. As he approached the bench, neither of the other interrogators noticed that a file he handed Madam Bones was slightly larger than their own.

"As you can see from these files, my stance goes back to last year's revived Tri-Wizard Tournament, and the rules of such.

"Despite my age, I was stated able to compete by Mr. Crouch, Mr. Bagman, and also Headmaster Dumbledore, despite that I did not enter my name—"

"The lies of youth, Mr. Potter—" Umbridge started, but Harry talked over her.

"As I was stating," Harry yelled out to drown out her voice, "that according to the rules laid down in the Tournament of 1717, a person not entering their own name willingly or not meeting the base requirements needed to enter into the Tournament by the Tournament Committee, cannot be forced to compete.

"Therefore, those three legally agreed that I was able to enter into the Tournament, instead of following the rules offered for those whose names were chosen and later did not wish to continue.

"Furthermore," Harry continued, "this was further shown to be the case when Minister Fudge awarded me the prize purse for winning it."

"WHAT!" bellowed Fudge, standing from his seat.

"According to the laws laid down by the ICW," Harry continued, ignoring the actions of Fudge, "an underage wizard can be certified 'of age' and free from Underage Restrictions, if certain people agree to such.

"By those same bylaws, listing said people, Minister Fudge, Headmaster Dumbledore—at least until this summer, Mister Crouch, and Mister Bagman all fill the needed roles.

"As such, by my own government's actions preceding, during, and proceeding the Tournament, I was declared emancipated from the Underage Restrictions Law," Harry replied with a smile.

Fudge wanted to respond, to yell, to curse—not magically, unless he could do so without people watching—before Amelia pulled him back to his seat. As he glared at her for doing such, she glared right back.

"If you had bothered to even look at the materials he provided, Cornelius," she whispered, wanting to keep the rest of the gallery from hearing their words as her hand covered the item needed to pick up their voice and broadcast it, "you will see he cited binding legal precedence for this."

Hissing, Fudge turned towards the Court Scribe. "Weatherby!" he bellowed. "Check these facts, make certain they are true!"

Putting what she felt was a calming hand on his shoulder, Delores turned towards the slightly smiling Potter. "And you believe a child should dictate the law to their betters?" she asked in her usual sickingly sweet voice.

"A child, no," Harry replied. "However, I am not acting as a child, now am I?" Harry asked with a smirk. "After all, I hardly feel this august body would declare a mere child, to be capable of defending themselves before a trial in the Wizengamot," he finished.

A few looked affronted at such a notion.

More looked on with concern as such a sneaky tactic.

"You need not go, Weasley," Amelia stated. "I can already certify that these laws referenced are indeed current."

Fudge and Delores turned towards her.

She ignored their glares. "While this may settle the charges of Underage Magic, it does not do anything to mitigate the charges of violating the Statute of Secrecy."

As the glares on Bones turned to smirks of vindication as they swiveled their heads towards Harry, he replied. "The supposed Muggle in question is my cousin, with whom I reside with. The family members with me in that home all know about magic, as it was … kindly explained to them when I received my Letter of Acceptance to Hogwarts. As such, they fall into the exception listing of said Statute."

Amelia nodded, as she continued to thumb through the papers Harry provided. If nothing, the boy had been very detailed and thorough. Each paper cited a law he was using, anything that might counter it, and why such a counter would fail.

"I also would like to be tested under Veritaserum and offer memories for a Pensieve to verify my account that the actions I took on the night in question were indeed necessary," Harry offered once more.

Delores couldn't allow this brat to get the better of Cornelius. "I suppose you offer proof as well that the former Dark Lord is back as well," she stated in barely hidden contempt.

Harry just tilted his head. "Well, the incident I think you are referring to; yes, I do have proof someone trying to claim to be the former Dark Lord was there. But at the time, I lacked any real manner of identifying whether it was true or not.

"Magic, being so unpredictable at times, you know.

"But I was referring to the incident which necessitated this case, to verify my claims that even had I still be subjected to Underage Restrictions or violated the Statute, I did so as legally allowed by said Laws. After all, as a responsible citizen to the Magical World, I would be remised in my duties to my fellow Magicals if I failed to do everything I could to warn them of at least two Dementors running about."

"And I suppose next you'll claim that somehow, You-Know-Who sent them after you, Potter," Fudge seethed, seeing his plan fall apart. At the least, he wanted to boost up the image of Potter being insane by claiming the Dark Lord was back … even if the punk had tried to claim it may at the least have been someone trying to claim to be said person.

"Honestly, I have no idea who sent them after me, if it is as you are stating, Minister, that they were indeed sent after me as a specific target." All true, he wasn't exactly privy to who all Delores chatted with at Azkaban to send them off. "I will leave that to Madam Bones to investigate." Actually, now that he thought about it, he'd have to see if he could capture the Dementors next time, and present them as 'evidence' at his trial.

Hard to claim he was making it up when he dropped the Dreary Duo on the courtroom floor.

* * *

A trip to Gringott's to explore his new-found freedom, explore what were of the Potter investments, properties, and funds—in part thanks to the fact Dumbledore had been unable to reach the lower concourse before Harry was more than halfway away from the Ministry—and he was back at the currently hidden base of the Order of the Phoenix.

And as expected, when he entered the front door, arms laden with bags from a recent shopping spree—as a legal adult, he had to look the part, and Dudley castoffs were not helping—he spotted several members of the Order, as well as his friends, staring at him.

But before they could begin yelling at him—for not trusting Dumbledore, leaving his escort, experiencing life, etc—he cut them off.

"Hey! Who wants to listen to WWN? I hear the latest news issue in thirty seconds will be … enlightening."

* * *

It took little time to get them to follow him to the main dining area—where they wanted to discuss things with him anyway—and have Kreacher bring out the wireless, so they could listen.

"_And now, we interrupt our normal programming to bring you this emergency message from the Head of the DMLE, Amelia Bones."_

"_Hello, my fellow Magical citizen._

"_I am here to report several new changes within our government._

"_The first, the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister, Delores Umbridge, has been arrested on charges of attempted murder. We have records of transcripts from her consult with two members of the Azkaban Defense Force about sending two or more Dementors after Harry Potter._

"_Second, due to recent information given to me, we have arrested Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, for crime of murder. As you know, Minister Fudge used his power to order not only the Dementor's Kiss for Sirius Black, but he actually used it on Bartemius_ _Crouch Jr._

"_However, after the rule of Minister of Magic, Paragus Smiredon, the Wizenmagot ruled that such power did not reside with the Minister."_

Harry smirked, recalling that research to discover what Paragus 'the Paranoid' Smiredon had done. Once elected, he tried to use the Dementors to eliminate all opposition.

Sure, the Wizenmagot was okay with it … until it started to attack them as well. Then self-preservation kicked in, and it was limited to being a result of trials before the entire Wizenmagot.

Thus, no Minister could have someone Kissed unless it was during and approved by a trial before the entire Wizenmagot.

"_Now, normally, this would end with all of the former Minister Fudge's estate—as he had no heirs—"_

Harry and a few of the people at Sirius's house shuddered, just at the idea that Fudge could have mated with anyone.

"_However, we recently recovered evidence from Bartemius Crouch Sr.'s office, stating about reports he had received earlier._

"_He had tested one Sirius Black's wand upon capture, and the last spell on it was a tracking spell. What more, a test upon the severed finger of Peter Pettigrew revealed that there was a spell on it, that the end of it had been severed by a dark magic cutting-type curse, a spell that had the same magical signature as Pettigrew himself._

"_As such, we have changed the requirements that Sirius Black be brought in, alive, for further questioning, to determine if his alleged trial was legal._

"_We say alleged, now, because evidence recently uncovered at the trial of one, Harry James Potter, that he provided to use, shows Pettigrew alive and well, assisting another entity try and claim that he was in fact, the reborn Dark Lord._

"_Now, we don't believe a man can come back from the dead, and recent investigations completed—which former Minister Fudge blocked—conclude that the magical signature, while close, was not an exact match. So we believe it is perhaps an illegitimate child birthed from the former Dark Lord, now trying to claim his title._

"_Several members of our society, previously let off by the previous administration by claiming they had been 'Imperiused', have been rounded up. We will test them for said curse, as well as use truth serum to confirm their stories this time._

"_Anyway, we ask Sirius Black to turn himself in to one of several individuals, whom we have confirmed beyond reproach, for a proper trial."_

Harry smiled as he looked towards Dumbledore, who still refused to meet his sight. "So; I just spent all day undermining Voldemort and all his potential allies.

"So, Headmaster, what have you done to hold him back and clear Sirius?" Harry asked with a smirk.

Man, he almost felt like going into law after the Loops were over.

Almost! He wasn't that crazy yet.

* * *

**New Loops #7:**

"I'm simply following the rules."

It was amazing how often that sentence infuriated people—especially Hermione, depending on her mood. After spending a good bit of Loops, just researching the law, it wasn't like he was just going to use it in one case.

Why, he had found a law, stating that the Minister of Magic was allowed to be placed under the Imperius Curse on Sundays between 4:30 and 4:35am, during the week of a Solstice, in which a full moon proceeds.

That was actually a lot of fun, and he had grown quite adept at making Fudge work his ass off for those five minutes.

Anyway, it didn't stop the fact that beating the System with its own rules—and once again when they would try and add a law to correct what he had done, but forget to repeal the previous law, thus making the changes illegal in themselves.

So, here he was, sitting at the Gryffindor Table in the Great Hall, enjoying a fresh pastry, waiting to see the Frog Bitch-Queen's next move to try and make him follow her will. She had tried detentions for everything, he never went. He skipped her class, thumbed his nose at any attempt by her to exert authority, and basically ignored her at every opportunity. When McGonagall had tried to make him serve Umbridge's detentions with her, he skipped them as well, saying his line.

Oh sure, he still attended other detentions, ended up costing his house hundreds of points that they all took away, ignored his Head of House's request that he keep his head down—while laughing about such a line coming from a Gryffindor, and continued on.

But then what he had been waiting for happened; a warming sensation from a medallion hanging from his neck, letting home know the game was truly nearing an end.

_Too bad, really wanted to see if I could get her to stroke out._

The doors to the Great Hall opened, allowing Umbridge to enter, being followed by several Aurors, marching their way behind the smiling disaster in Pink—he personally wondered how traumatized walking behind Umbridge would make someone—as she headed for him.

Ignoring her—but keeping his wand hidden and at the ready—he focused more on his food.

"Uh-hem!"

Yeah, like he was going to turn towards her now.

"What is the meaning of this, Delores?" barked McGonagall, having made her way towards where Harry sat as soon as the Aurors had arrived.

"I am merely here to show Mr. Potter that all actions have consequences," the happy frog replied. "He is under arrest for dissention and such, for his improper actions during my esteemed tenure here."

Putting down what remained of his pastry, Harry took a napkin, dabbed his mouth, followed by a quick drink of water, before slowing turning towards his accuser. "My, whatever do you mean?" he asked. "I have broken no rules."

"Oh, but you have, Mr. Potter," she smirked.

"Not really, no," Harry replied, standing up, taking a relaxed stance. "You see, I haven't done anything illegal, as you can not only teach here, but be High Inquisitor."

"… Excuse me?" she growled, eyes narrowed, and turning a slight shade of purple he had grown to label Vernon-1.

"Well, you see, the ICW Rules for Scholastic Advancement state that any teacher within an ICW certified educational establishment, must have at least a Level 1 Mastery in their subject, or at least a month away from obtaining said Mastery before the start of the scholastic year.

"You," he said, pointing at Umbridge, "only have an O.W.L. in Defense—and a Poor, if I recall. You have no N.E.W.T., nor a Mastery. Therefore, you cannot be a teacher in this school, as Hogwarts is an ICW certified establishment, and Britain is still a member of the ICW."

Her eyes opened wide, as did McGonagall's, several of the Aurors, and many of the students as they had all quieted down to hear him.

"Mr. Potter," she growled out, "I was appointed to this position at the behest of Minister Fudge!"

Harry just shrugged, the smile never disappearing for a moment. "Nice and all, but even **he**has to follow that rule. All your posting did was include him in the personal penalty fines that will be labeled against Headmaster Dumbledore for allowing an unqualified teacher in this place. That of course, doesn't include the fines the ICW will lobby against the current administration as well as any previous ones, depending on how far back their investigation revealed unqualified educators being used at Hogwarts."

Her mouth opened and closed several times, but he pushed on.

"As for your appointment as High Inquisitor, that is also quite illegal, as such a position requires that our nation be under some sort of internal strife, the bare minimum being a civil war. The point of said position being to keep such a war from being spilled into an educational institution, as well as insure that neither side can use the children as combatants or hostages.

"As your dear Cornelius keeps repeating, all is fine in our land, so that means your position cannot exist legally."

"… Why didn't you tell us, mate?" asked Ron from across the table.

Harry never took his eyes off Delores, knowing she would strike if she could or if she believed she could get away with it. "Simple, you never asked."

"I did!" Hermione screeched.

"No, you went into a rant about why I should follow the rules, and then demanded I explain myself.

"You never just asked."

Slowing stroking his chin—and once again reminding himself to get some salve to grow hair there so it would look even more dramatic, he looked at the still shocked frog. "So, basically, since you had no legal or true authority here at Hogwarts, I cannot be held accountable for ditching your class, any detentions you assigned, any of the decrees you made, and such.

"Actually, since I just proved you have not even the right to be here since you initially arrived, that would mean each and every point you took or gave, becomes reversed."

The school wards—at least, the ones dealing with points given or taken by those with the authority to do such—took actions, causing the Slytherin tally to drop considerably, as the other three houses increased dramatically.

"Finally, let us not forget the fact that you used a Class-2 dark artifact known as a Blood Quill on students for detention, and also drugged many students with Veritaserum without their knowledge of permission of their guardians. I imagine there will be quite a penalty for such an act.

"Right, Madam Bones?" he asked, turning slightly to a suit of armor by the wall, near him.

The assembled mass was immediately surprised as the Head of the DMLE appeared, pulling off an invisibility cloak and handing it to an oddly dressed house elf, who immediately popped away. "Indeed, Mr. Potter," she smirked, pointing her wand at Umbridge. "I will also need to discuss several things with my Aurors here, as to why they are here and not at their assigned locations."

Nodding, Harry turned back towards Delores, who looked even paler than Snape. "Yes, I do imagine when this scandal is made public, the current administration will undergo a … strong change," he clicked, as several more Aurors entered—those he knew were loyal and vetted to Amelia—to 'assist' their comrades in returning to the Ministry and ensure Umbridge didn't 'disappear'.

"You will pay for this, boy," hissed Umbridge.

"Now, Ms. Umbridge," Harry replied, "you must not tell lies.

"Oh, and Madam Bones, I do believe she might know something about the incident I was charged with during the summer. It might be wise to question her under Veritaserum if at all possible."

Amelia's smirk was near shark-like as Umbridge went for her wand—knowing what would happen if she was forced to answer such questions—stunning the woman and binding her in heavy chains. "Oh, I shall ask that and more.

"Perhaps even of some of you," she growled, looking at the nervous Aurors who had accompanied Umbridge.

"Thank you for your assistance in this matter, Mr. Potter," she stated, bowing, before she had her detail levitate Umbridge and escort the original detail from the property.

Returning to his seat, Harry just picked up his remaining pastry, ignoring the stares of everyone for what he had just pulled off, and could only think of one thing to say.

"Oh, I love it when I do that to them," he purred, biting into his treat.

* * *

**New Loop #8:**

Hermione moaned as consciousness returned to her, her mind rebooting.

"Awake?"

Blinking her eyes, she took a moment to adjust to the light, before turning slowly, discovering…

"HARRY!" she cried, sitting up.

"Yes, Ms. Granger?" he asked, his wand glowing as it worked on a small block of wood, somehow shaving off bits of it. As usual for her, his voice was … cold, almost devoid of emotion.

"What happened? Where am I?" she asked, looking about, discovering the Hospital Wing was her location. To her left, she spotted a bed holding the unconscious Ron Weasley. Across from her, she spotted two Slytherin females, Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass, the latter of whom was in a bed, looking at her.

"You are where you think you are," Harry continued, focused more on his project of wood-carving via magic than looking at her. "You and Mr. Weasley are here because you doubted my warning."

"But Harry!" she cried out. "It was Him!"

"Him who?" Harry asked, turning the block slightly to carve more detail.

"I … I think it was You-Know-Who."

"Do at least say his common name, Ms. Granger," Harry replied, sparing her a cold glance before resuming his work. "I find his assorted names given to him by frightened sheep to be somewhat … unintelligent. I did inform you of who he really was, after all."

"You know the original name of the Dark Lord?" Daphne asked.

Harry nodded. "His full name is Tom Marvolo Riddle, born from the nearly Squib daughter of the Gaunt line, who drugged a Muggle named Tom Riddle. If you wish for more, see me afterwards, as I do believe Ms. Granger has more to impart or query me about."

Hermione just stared at him. "Harry! He took the stone! I'm sure of it!"

"And?"

"AND?" she screeched. She knew he was emotionally distant to everyone, but even he had to understand the danger if the Dark Lord had such an item.

"And why would I be concerned that Mr. Riddle and his current Host had a fake Philosopher's Stone?" Harry asked, vanishing a large portion of the wood shavings, as he continued to magically whittle.

"Fake?" Hermione asked, eyes wide. The two First Years across from her had similar expressions, but for more the mention of the Stone than the possibility of whom now had it.

"Yes; I did the smart thing and contacted Mr. Flamel, asking why he would entrust such an item to a man who would hide it in a school full of children, guarded by such poorly conceived traps."

"You … you talked to him!" she gasped.

Harry just nodded. "Mr. Flamel informed me he had made no such deal with Headmaster Dumbledore, so I took it to mean the supposed Philosopher's Stone was a fake, a trap of some sorts, designed by those who had no trouble setting such an irresistible target among unprepared innocents. I was even able to discern the moronic obstacles placed to 'deter' any thieves."

Harry paused in his work to stare at her. "I found them sorely lacking," he muttered, before returning to his carving. "I imagine that right now, Mr. Riddle is most upset that Mr. Quirrell cannot make the fake stone work."

"Quirrell?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, it appears that Headmaster Dumbledore failed to not only hire a competent teacher for the DADA position, but hired one who rented out his body to the disembodied spirit of Mr. Riddle," Harry replied, before pulling his wand away from the former block of wood, revealing a human-like figure. As he vanished the rest of the mess, he kept examining his work, before finally nodding. "A major oversight on his part, I admit; one I have spotted a pattern of lately, but that is for a later Inquiry to debate upon."

"So … he doesn't have the stone?" asked Hermione. She herself had been rendered unconscious after Ron had taken a hit to allow her to win a chess game trap.

Harry shook his head in the negative, picking up what looked like a thick gauze wrapping, before wrapping the wooden figurine in it. "No, he has a fake, though the Headmaster for some reason believed I had gone with you to stop him…

"Most curious," Harry continued, finishing the wrapping, and placed his wand against it, the figure changing to look like a life-like representation of the former DADA professor.

"Harry?"

"Yes, Ms. Granger?"

"What are you doing?" she asked, as Harry pulled an odd sheet of parchment out, setting it on a nearby table, and placing the figure on it.

"While my unfortunate family may have taught me the lesson that friendship is most fleeting, they also taught me that one simply does not allow an insult to go unpunished, that retribution should be fitting, no matter the speed delivered," Harry started.

Hermione nodded, knowing her House-mate's habits well enough. He did, after all, consider her an ally, if not friend. Though she hoped he would accept the power of friends soon enough. "And?"

"I am simply using a ritual I found while researching a few Caribbean books," Harry replied. As he prepared to touch his wand to the table, he paused, looking around the room. "Oh, and just for your information; he can only hear me."

With that, Harry touched his wand to the table, muttering an incantation none of them could hear, as the table flashed to life.

_"I'm sorry, Master!"_ the figure cried out, sounding like Quirrell. _"I am unsure how to work the Stone!"_

"Work faster, fool!"

came the formless cry. The figurine seemed to move as if the figure was doing something.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Riddle, but that won't happen," Harry replied, holding up his wand, as the figurine turned wildly, as if looking for the source of the voice.

"You see, you attacked two people whom I consider as … protectorates of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter. And your actions have declared the pitiful Houses of Quirrell and Riddle as our enemies.

"So, prepare to learn why it is folly to challenge those houses…

"Goodbye for now, Mr. Riddle, and goodbye forever, Mr. Quirrell." With that the tip of his wand glowed an eerie green.

_"Avada Kedavra,"_Harry stated, directing the Killing Curse at the figurine, causing it and the parchment it was on to burst into flames, before quickly burning to ash, the table only slightly singed.

Hermione just stared in shock. "You… You used…"

"I used a curse to deal with an enemy," Harry calmly replied. "Mr. Riddle has killed my parents, Mr. Quirrell, while merged with Mr. Riddle, attacked two members under the protections of my House, and was so dealt with as well."

"Then, the Killing Curse did strike them?" asked Tracey, slightly pale. This was certainly not the Boy Hero of Books, or the one ranted about by their Head of House or Draco Malfoy.

"Somewhat," Harry replied. "The ritual can be used to strike enemies from afar, if you have an item they valued."

Hermione's eyes went wide as her brain went into overdrive. "That gauze! It was his turban, wasn't it!"

Harry nodded. "Very astute, Ms. Granger; yes, I used it to link the doll I created to Mr. Quirrell and Mr. Riddle. With it, I could have ended their current existence from anywhere magic could reach. As such, I have fired the next volley for this feud between Houses Potter and Riddle, for his attack on those under the protections of House Potter."

Standing up, he turned towards Hermione. "Ms. Granger, I do hope you will read the book I have left you on the table on your other side, about wizarding etiquette. While I admit it is seemingly dry and somewhat obsolete, it will serve you as a good basis for what to expect, especially as a House under my protection.

"What more, I do hope it will serve as a reminder that you should have more faith in my judgment. Good day," he replied with a curt bow and walking towards the exit.

He paused before the doorway, turning to his left to look at the empty corner there. "Headmaster Dumbledore," he started, "it would seem rude to enter into a wing of healing, hidden behind so many charms."

With that, Harry left, even as a surprised Albus Dumbledore slowly faded into view.

hr

Harry refused to smirk as he left. He had already met Dumbledore earlier that year, explaining to the supposed 'Leader of the Light' why not only he did not seek friends, by why he had only barely close acquaintances.

Then again, Harry also admitted he would be carrying a grudge from the first few Loops, where he had tried to convince Albus of what was occurring, only for him to be Obliviated, drugged, or worse, as Albus felt only he was secure enough to hold such knowledge.

Either way, the look on the man's face when Harry used a supposed Unforgiveable to deal with Riddle was priceless.

He just hoped he could keep up the image of the cold bastard who refused friendship for seven years.

The looks on their faces when their Boy Hero didn't willingly throw himself to the wolves for them would be priceless.

* * *

**New Loop #9:**

Smirking as they waited in the hallway for their Sorting, Harry slipped near the walls. With a flick of his wrist, he summoned what was known as a Hogwarts Token: an item given to the Headmaster or those trusted for the school defenses, to activate them when needed.

They also had the use of allowing you another function Harry had worked out, an ability lost in the annuls of time since the Four Founders created the school. With it, one could set up time-delayed acts, reactions to spells cast elsewhere, or held until certain conditions were met. The Founders had planned to use it to deal with students casting spells they should not be.

The plan was initially for a stunning spell, binding spell, followed by a summoning spell to get the staff there to deal with the evil berk.

But, like most things, wizards of even that caliber didn't question if those wards could be used for something else.

Smiling as he flicked the Token back into his subspace pocket, Harry edged back into the crowd, hearing Ron start to question about a Troll being how they were tested.

It was going to be fun.

* * *

As Professor McGonagall set the Sorting Hat on its stool, she backed away, preparing to read the names of the First Years after the empowered hat sang its song.

She was thus; understandably surprised when the lights flickered out, throwing the Great Hall into total darkness, as even the Moon was hidden from sight in the enchanted ceiling.

Finally, over the confused murmurs and frantic screams of the students, a loud … note was heard, from what most of the Muggle-knowledgeable would have referred to as an electric guitar.

Screams rose as large flames shot from the floor near the Sorting Hat, which was no longer sitting on a stool, but now on a large, imposing figure … with glowing eyes.

**"I … AM IRON-MAN!"**

As the guitar hit the second extended note, with more flames shooting towards the ceiling, Harry had to smirk, even as many of the students and staff were panicking. The Sorting Hat was right; it was a great prank.

Though Harry had to wonder how the Hat was able to sound exactly like Ozzy Osbourne.

* * *

**New Loop #10:**

Blinking, Harry looked around, wondering where this Reset had placed him.

Luckily, having undergone the same session for way-too-many times, he quickly learned what he needed.

He was cold.

He was near Black Lake.

Fleur was once again proving that a swimsuit in winter could make any guy's blood boil.

_Crap, Second Task,_ Harry thought.

However, he could see the silver lining to even this dreadful cloud. "So, let me get this straight," he stated, surprising the officials and stopping their droning. "You kidnapped four people and put them underwater."

"We did not kidnap them," Ludo stated with a glare. "They volunteered."

Harry shrugged. "Whatever; can we also safely assume they are being watched over."

"Yes," Dumbledore smiled with a twinkle.

"And can we also take solace in the fact that those guarding them will also be able to keep them from drowning for whatever reason, since as far as I am aware of, the Merpeople are deep enough that should whatever is keeping the hostages alive, fail, they won't make it to the surface in time?" Harry asked with narrowed eyes.

The judges/officials stared at him for several seconds, almost as if they had never considered such a thing.

"Or will you give me the same assurances as the people who said the Horntail was safely secured and couldn't break free?" Harry asked again.

One again, the same stares, some of them quite angry for being questioned, others actually considering his words.

Palming his head, Harry sighed. "Merlin save me from the idiots."

As several of the group—especially Percy—began to mutter at him, Harry turned to face the lake. "Let's see," he started, speaking loud enough for all to hear him, "they would have added charms to them to prevent a simple _Accio_, but in usual fashion for those I know, forgot to do the same to whatever is securing them inside the so-called safe-zone."

By now, the other champions were staring at Harry, wondering where he was going with this.

"The Merpeople wouldn't allow them inside their homes, so they'd be kept somewhere public, where a multitude of the Merpeople could keep an eye on them, protect them from the local predators…

"Only one thing like that inside the village," Harry finished with a smirk, pointing his wand out over the water. "_Accio_, Central Merperson Statue!"

A few of the people in the stands having heard him giggles, Draco beginning to spout of his usual quips about Harry, as the Champions and even the judges focused on the glowing tip of his wand. Even a few of the staff were wondering if what Harry had said was true, while a few of the event staff began to curse themselves for not enchanting the statue to prevent such.

They tried to console themselves, claiming no wizard had the power to summon a statue weighing several tons, from hundreds of feet below the surface, even further away, to themselves.

"INCOMING!" Harry yelled, as said 'impossible' event occurred, the statue breaking the surface, as Harry yanked his wand back like a fisherman's pole, sending it into the air. Behind it, quickly breaching the surface, were the four hostages.

A wide-arcing _Diffindo_ severed the ropes, with a wide-area Cushioning Charm combined with _Mobilicorpus_ to slow their descent.

He did find it odd that Gabrielle landed in his arms again, almost like Fate.

Heaven help the idiots who began any 'loli' rumors, or he'd show them a few new Unforgivables he had created.

The judges and event staff, however, were less impressed as the statue nearly landed on them.

"Mr. Potter!" Dumbledore yelled, having nearly been speared by the statue's … spear, only being saved by his quick wand-work.

"Yes?" Harry asked, paying him no attention, as he was busy using Drying Charms and Warming Charms on the now awake hostages.

Dumbledore's response—as well as several colorful remarks from the others who had nearly been crushed—were cut off as several Merpeople broke the surface and began yelling.

Handing off the ecstatic Veela to her sister, Harry looked at the other champions. "Think I'll get first place?" he asked with a smile.

* * *

**New Loop #11:**

"Wow," Hermione gasped, as the Golden Trio made their way towards the Hogwarts Train Station, "this year was ever so exhilarating!"

Harry just nodded with a smile.

"Hey, mate; why are you smiling like that?" Ron asked, the smile seeming … extra creepy.

"Oh, just made a deal with the Muggle Studies teacher to finish it off over the summer," Harry replied.

Hermione's eyes shot wide. "But that's a Third Year elective!" she gasped. "And we just completed our First Year!

"How did you do it!" she demanded, grabbing Harry and giving him a glare that would have made Snape blink.

"Oh, I gave her a priceless Muggle artifact to explore over the summer, for them to work out."

"… A priceless Muggle artifact?" Hermione asked.

"Well, priceless to a wizard," Harry corrected. "Muggle munitions are pretty cheap, if you know the right contacts," Harry offered.

Hermione's eyes went wide in shock.

"What are munitions?" Ron asked, not familiar with the term, as it wasn't something he could recall his father ever having been interested in.

"YOU GAVE A TEACHER EXPLOSIVES!" Hermione bellowed in shock.

"Ow," Harry muttered, trying to pop his ears. "And yes, but just a small one. They seemed very excited to try and understand it."

Further comment was cut off, however, as a section of Hogwarts exploded, creating a huge plume of fire and showing some of the students with debris.

As one, Hermione and Ron turned back to Harry, as he was searching his pocket for something.

Only Hermione's eyes grew wide as Harry pulled out a hand grenade.

"Hmm," he thought, before pocketing it again, "I thought I gave that to her; must have been the other package."

"Other … package?" Hermione asked.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, military-grade C4," Harry replied. "Damn; had plans for that…"

"What… Why…," Hermione tried to ask, as the teachers who were supposed to be watch the students leave, took off in a dead run—after several seconds of staring—back towards the castle.

Harry just shrugged. He had been telling the truth: he had planned to give the teacher a simple hand grenade—less chance of them taking others with them. The C4 had been to see if having Vernon's car explode in the parking lot would finally get some police presence on the lard's case.

Either way, fun for him, work for Dumbledore. Harry would freely admit that he hadn't quite forgiven the man for the first ten Loops, where Harry went to him for help, Dumbledore went to erase Harry's mind, and somehow made the resulting future **much**worse.

Besides, Harry had learned to live by Darwin for the moment, and as such was living for the moment.

And at this moment, he saw a use for the hand grenade he now had instead of a block of C4. "Hey, Draco! Gift!"

"HARRY!" cried Hermione.

"What?" Harry asked. "It still had the pin in it … when he caught it. Um … run?"

Purebloods: natural prey for Darwin.

* * *

**New Loop #12:**

Harry fought a losing battle to keep a twitch off his face, before finally giving in.

Growling, he turned to the rest of the Slytherin table. "Really! Are you all so lacking in ambition and cunning that allowing Malfoy to continue acting like this is somehow considered, 'in your best interests'?"

As they glared at him, Harry rounded on Malfoy. "And you, Draco! Are you seriously going to stand here and keep using the term, mudblood, incorrectly!"

That confused many people.

"Harry?" Hermione started.

"Hermione, that term was originally coined well before the Founders, what was humanity in Britain like during that time?"

Hermione opened her mouth, before understanding dawned on her.

Harry was very grateful that even in Primary, she'd been an over-achiever. "But that means…"

Harry nodded.

"So, the term was…"

He nodded again.

"So, Slytherin was against the Muggleborn because…"

He just smiled.

"What?"

Malfoy did not.

Sighing, Harry turned on him and the Slytherin table. "During that time period, Muggle society was deteriorating. As such, Salazar was afraid that should a Muggleborn do magic or learn of its existence, they'd blab about it to other frightened Muggles, who would then launch a crusade to wipe us out. 'Mudblood' was just a term like Muggle, used to describe those born from a society living in mud-based dwellings, of wood and grass, to hide their real meaning. Wizards at the time, dressed as they were, would have passed for high-nobility—being so clean and such. It would have been merely assumed to be yet another noble lauding their birthright over the poor peasants.

"He was mainly concerned that any Muggleborn at the time might learn of Hogwarts's location and lead the enemies here.

"The fact that you," he stated, pointing at Draco, "and those like you, continue to use it as was redefined by a poor excuse for a Dark Lord in the 1200s, just adds to my fury!"

The Great Hall was silent—even the approaching teachers had stopped and stared, as Harry growled.

"Hell! Right now, the situation is reversed, with the Magical World filled with fanatical idiots, believing a dogma of purity, trying to wipe out any inferior they spot!" Harry bellowed.

"YOU LIE!" Draco yelled.

Smirking, Harry waved his hands at the counters for House Points, revealing four portraits, those he found in the private offices that had been hidden, of each of the four Founders.

Oddly, each was accessed by a doorway in the kitchens, much like the Room of Requirements, that the House Elves used as a pantry.

Founders they may have been, but so secretive of their own offices, none mentioned they all used the same door.

And in each, a portrait waited for a worthy searcher to find.

"Ask them," Harry spat, before turning away. "I have enough cunning to, and enough ambition not to be an idiot."

The fact that he had now added the Four Founders to the Hogwarts painting network—allowing them to move about like all others, and adding a correcting influence to history—thus derailing certain Dark Lords and Light Lords as well—was just icing on the cake.

Now, if he could figure out a way to do this during Quirrell's tenure, and thus really mind-fuck Tom, his day would be perfect.


End file.
